The Freezer Effect
by NothingVentured
Summary: Since landing on Omega in 2183, I've relied on secrets and half truths to keep me alive and safe. But the crew of the Normandy SR2 is a nosey bunch who never put much stock in either of those things. Self Insert. T for language.
1. Freezer Burn

**A/N: Hey all. To my loyal followers, I wanted to say that, sorry, but I did not add 7 new chapters to this story. I just made minor changes to the first 7 chapters. Nothing vital to the story line changed, so you don't have to reread them if you don't want to, but I wanted another chance at those lines that I couldn't seem to word quite right. Hopefully, the changes will improve the writing and flow a little bit. Thank you for your patience! **

_**Chapter 1: Freezer Burn**_

I was in pain.

But it wasn't a sharp, biting pain or even a dull, throbbing one. This was a hesitant one—like it was screaming at me from some great distance. Why was I in pain? My mind was slow to respond, sluggish. I grew frustrated and then slightly panicked. I should know something. There was something important to remember about the pain. But what?

And then it grew closer—the little screams—like wind was quickly sweeping away the fog. My insulation from the hurt was leaving. Everything seared. It felt like my skin and muscle were being pinched off everywhere at once, all the way through to my bones.

After a moment, I realized that I was moving. It wasn't much, just a gentle swaying from side to side. And I was on my stomach, the shifting pulling roughly at my tender skin. I was being carried over someone's shoulder. Who was carrying me? Just as this question occurred to me, we stopped. There was a clanging metal sound followed by some strange growling and grunting. What the hell was that? I needed to wake up and open my eyes! I needed to figure out what was going on! I couldn't remember anything!

My heart started to speed up, the urgency creeping slowly through my body. Then, my vision finally began to clear and I realized that I was being put inside of something, and not gently. I was being stuffed in something loud and metallic. It popped under my weight, the sound echoing loudly.

It was an air duct.

The grunting became more urgent as the scene's details came crashing down on me. I was in some dark air duct, the artificial wind whipping my long, loose hair. I could barely move, my limbs sluggish but rapidly recovering. And the growling was coming from the two Krogan just outside.

Krogan!

I think it was supposed to be a scream, but all that came out of my mouth was a sort of choked gurgling sound as I came face to face with the reptilian alien. One of them hefted a shotgun as I attempted to claw my way up the duct out of their sight. I forgot how loud guns were. The shot ripped through the air and then my left foot. It still worked, though, so I must have only gotten caught by the edge of the pattern. With more clanging, I saw the barrel being shoved roughly in after me, but the Krogan's hump wouldn't let it see inside. He began to pull the trigger, firing half a dozen shells into the sides of the duct indiscriminately. If he hadn't been such a horrible shot, I'd have been in real trouble. There was more grunting and growling from the opening and I did my best to stay still. If they heard me scrambling, they might have begun shooting again but they couldn't look in here, so if I stayed quiet, maybe they would leave.

Luckily, after just a few minutes the metal grate was replaced and heavy footsteps faded into the distance. I sighed in relief and let out a small whimper I'd been holding back. I'd been shot in the leg by a Krogan! I was somehow in Mass Effect—or Mass Effect was here, I wasn't sure which—and I don't remember how it got that way.

I needed to think. I had been sitting at home, about to fall asleep on my husband's lap while he watched Survivorman or some such thing. But something happened. Something big. What was it? I needed a clue of some sort. Okay, well I was wearing…was this my PT uniform? I blinked in surprise. That memory was two weeks before drill. Why would I be in my Army stuff?

I suddenly felt my heart drop into my stomach.

A space pod crashed.

It crashed in the field next to my apartment while I was on my way to work. There had been somebody inside and I tried to get them out, but the alien was long dead and I got sick from exposure to the body. That's what the Army doctors had said when they quarantined me. And a week later I—

Suddenly, I heaved, convulsing and vomiting there in the air duct. There wasn't much in it, considering I hadn't been able to keep anything down while I was in quarantine, making the bile burn my throat. Oh God, I had died! Then how? How did I get here? Was this just the future, or another place entirely? And what was I supposed to do now?

_Get moving._

My husband's voice broke through my mind, refocusing it. I had to go. They knew where I was, and as long as they knew that they could shoot me again—could kill me again. Then an injured foot and an uncertain plan of action would be the least of my worries. I didn't have to find somewhere _familiar_ or even somewhere _safe_, I just had to get somewhere _else_ and stay hidden.

I began to slide down the duct, staying as quiet as possible. It didn't support my weight very well, so it was slow going, but I began to take stock. My head was spinning from the effort of just moving and I was shivering violently. I just felt so awful. But I also felt stronger. Like when you're getting over the flu and you can tell that the worst is over. Hopefully I wasn't still dying. I needed to hide until I'd recovered.

If I wanted to stay hidden then I needed new clothes and some medigel. Money and a weapon wouldn't hurt either, but I was less inclined to steal those.

As I continued, the pulsing music of a club began to make the air hum. Damn, this duct was loud though, even with some cover sound. I needed to get out of it soon. I lucked out as I came up to the next grate. It was some kind of dressing room, probably for the club's strippers. It had clothes, a medical station on the wall, and, for the time being, it was empty.

The grate was screwed into the wall, but through a careful use of my dogtags, I managed to get it undone. At one point, a couple of Asari stumbled out of a bedroom nearby and, judging by how loud the music got when they opened the door, into the club. I froze, but they were probably too drunk to have noticed me anyway.

When the grate finally came loose, I cleared the room they'd just come out of as an escape route and put the duct cover back in place. The strippers' quarters was full of stuff, from costumes to romance novels, but it was all surprisingly organized. The skimpy pink outfits were hung up neatly in lockers with names on them, though about a third had been replaced with more everyday outfits. I was reluctant to take those but some had spare clothes folded above them, so that was a possibility.

I snuck immediately to the medical station and grabbed a syringe. It said to inject the gel as close to the wound as possible so I peeled off the needle safety latch and reluctantly stuck it in my calf, releasing a breath as relief flooded to the wounds. It would probably be a while yet before I'd be walking without a limp, but for now, this was good enough.

It wasn't until I started rifling carefully through the drawers of the enormous make-up stand that I saw it. It had a pale, wide-eyed face with dark black marks criss-crossing it. They almost looked like turian marks, but it wasn't a turian—it was me.

My heart started to beat again as I realized that it was just the mirror on the back of the make-up counter that had scared me. Still, those black marks were strange. They weren't tattoos or anything, were they? I fingered them lightly. Two thin strips went from the middle of my forehead down to the tip of my nose where they tapered off. Branching off of these were thicker lines that traced across my cheekbones and up just outside of my eyes, coming to an artful curl a little shy of the ends of my eyebrows. I really hoped that it was just paint, but I couldn't even feel it. Still, I had to cover it up. Whatever else it was, it was unusual and would draw attention to me. Luckily, the make up here was good and, although it took a while to find the right shade among a mix of blues, it covered up the black marks like they had never existed. I kept the little container.

After that much time wasted, I knew that I had to move fast. I searched through the drawers, finding a scattering of small electronic devices that looked like they'd fit in my ears. I took one of these too, hoping that it was a translator.

Feeling guilty, I pilfered a pair of olive drab cargo pants that just barely fit and a black ¾ sleeve t-shirt. Suddenly, I was glad for all that weight I'd lost being sick that week. I was lacking a bit of the muscle that I was used to, but these skin-tight clothes wouldn't have fit me otherwise. I was still a little chubby yet, but my shortness left me a little wiggle room. I also took the black boots that had been left in the bottom of another locker, which looked to be about the right size, and marveled at how good my injured foot felt already. My old PT uniform went into a trash shoot that I was hoping would lead to an incinerator.

But I was out of time. I'd been here far too long already. Shoving the makeup in my leg pocket and the metal piece in my ear, I snuck out into the club. I was in a lower hallway that circled a main level where bartenders were serving and lights were flashing. A bright neon sign read 'Afterlife'. Damn. Omega was not a place you wanted to be unarmed. I made my way up there and pushed through the crowds, relieved when I heard words I recognized. So that thing was a translator. That was one less thing to worry about.

Now I had to find out what to do from here. I needed food that my stomach wouldn't reject and a place to bed down and recover. To get those things, I would need a job. It would probably be best to head to the markets. There had to be someone hiring there. A restaurant would have the nourishment I needed, which would be good because I hadn't eaten anything since three days before I died. But I would rather not work there while I was sick, even if I was nearing the end of it. I should look for a sales clerk position or something.

I slipped out of Afterlife, past a krogan bouncer, and down the hallway to the left. The music was bearable now, and I did my best to listen carefully to the conversations going on around me. The door on the right led to the markets, right?

"We put the girl in the air duct. She was up and kicking, but a couple of shots quieted her down. Blood can still spread that White Fever, right?"

I froze and tried to lean casually up against the low wall near the voices, pretending to wait for someone as I listened to the conversation behind me. Either the Krogan didn't recognize me in new clothes and without the paint, or they just weren't paying attention, but I didn't want to show them my face and find out. From the brief glance I got, one of them was talking to his omni-tool. The voice that responded was quiet and I couldn't quite hear it, but it made him chuckle.

"I don't speak gibberish, Salarian scum . As long as it wipes out those Turians like you said it would, you'll get your son back. We spent a lot of credits on that human in her fancy antique cryo-pod. This had better pay off."

The conversation appeared to end then, because the Krogan turned to each other. "Think we should have told him his son was fed to the varren yesterday for biting you?" the smaller one with the green headplate asked. They both laughed heartily. "Well, I'm off duty now and I have a little blue beauty to see to."

"You gonna go get turned down by the stripper again?" There was the thud of playful punches being exchanged, followed by a rumbling chuckle and then the green Krogan passed by me. The other one, the larger krogan with the blue headplate headed the opposite direction, right to the markets I'd been headed to before.

So I was cryogenically frozen, I thought, tailing him from a good distance. That explained that part at least. Mass Effect was just the future. You know, a hundred and fifty some years in the future. And this idiot had bought me to spread a disease that only affected Turians—and apparently humans. Well, I prayed, let's hope I'm not still contagious.

As I hid behind a couple who were also passing through the sliding door, I saw the Krogan head toward the apartments. There weren't many people going this way, but I kept my steps light and he didn't take notice of me. Then I realized he was walking toward an elevator. _Damn…I'll lose him_, I thought irritably. _If I get any closer, he may get suspicious of me._ Just to be safe, I searched the median quickly, finding a short, jagged piece of metal in the garbage that littered it. It looked like it used to be part of some kind of locking mechanism on a crate. Whatever it was, it was all I would have, and sick or no I wasn't going to let this child-killing bio-terrorist get away from me. Shoving the improvised weapon in my pocket, I moved up to stand beside him and wait casually for the lift.

He sized me up as the elevator settled and locked into place and I let him, until I saw that spark of recognition in his eyes. "Do I know you, hu—"

I drove the metal piece deep into his eye and twisted. He was strong bashing at me with his arm, but he was too slow to prevent the attack and I wasn't about to let go of my only weapon. I took the bone crunching hit and ripped the metal piece back and forth, doing my best to shred his brain. He screamed in rage and pain and charged forward into the now open elevator in an attempt to crush me against the wall. I tried to move out of the way, but he held me in a bear hug and I took the full force of his weight against me, breaking more than one rib. My only saving grace was that he also smashed his face into the wall, driving the metal piece deep into his skull. With a shudder, he collapsed, unconscious.

I gasped, slipping out from under him and trying to remember how to breathe. Holy crap, that hurt. But Krogan regenerated. I had to make sure he was all the way dead. I pressed a random number on the elevator, coaxing the doors closed and then took his own shotgun to him. I'll spare you the details, but I can assure you, 100 percent, he was dead. I think I heaved a couple of times while searching his body, but there was nothing left to come up so I didn't worry about it too much. By the time I made it to the 29th floor, I had found everything I needed: a piece of cloth to wipe the blood off on, an omni-tool, a pistol, an omni-blade, two syringes of medigel, and a handful of credit chits. I was able to adjust the pistol holster to my belt, but with no way to carry the shotgun, save for in my hand suspiciously, I had to leave it behind.

After returning to the 6th floor (marked with a star for Afterlife), I walked quickly back toward the markets and found a dark corner to sit in while I fiddled with the orange hologram that was my new tool. I tried to memorize all the information I could, but when I found a reset function, I knew I had to do it. It would wipe all of the details, like owner and contact information off of it, meaning that I wouldn't have to answer calls from the Krogan's boss or friends. Hopefully, they'd just think I pawned it. Weyrloc Drunn was finally gone. It even assigned me a new number when I requested it and I memorized that too.

I figured out the credit chits too. They didn't seem to be connected to any sort of account. They were just like a wallet that you put money into or took it out of. I transferred all of the credits to two of them. There was really quite a bit. He must have been planning a big purchase. 2,000 went into the chit that I discreetly tucked into my boot, but I put 300 on the one that went into my pocket. That was going to go toward food. I was starving now and shaking and I barely had the energy to lift my arms.

I found a little place that was still open and, although the cook didn't look too happy, he made me a bowl of ramen. It wasn't my favorite food in the world, but I at least knew what it was. After watching the last two customers leave and stealing a look at their tip, I tried to give him a decent one before heading out. Strangely, spending the—let's face it—stolen chits didn't bother me. He wouldn't be using them anymore and besides, I still had to track down the Salarian he was talking to. I would need resources to do so—to save a life. But not tonight.

Most places were closed now and I needed some sleep anyway so I found myself another air duct grate and slept in there. It was noisy and there was constantly wind whipping past me, but at least it was safe and hidden. Besides, my omni-tool said that it was pushing 2:00am and at that point I estimated that I could sleep on a bed of needles. I could apartment and job hunt in the morning. Right now I was just so tired….

.0

I slept for nearly 12 hours in that little duct and although my ribs felt much better thanks to the gel I gave myself before falling asleep, they were still very sore. I should avoid getting into any more fights.

I looked into apartments first, though it took several hours of scanning bulletin boards and hiking up stairs to finally find one of the landlords. He was a Turian, who glared down at me suspiciously. "Well, look what we have here," he sneered. "A little human girl. Fresh from the colonies, I assume? Looks like you've been acclimatizing to Omega. Rough day?"

"I need an apartment," I said firmly. "A bed and a working shower."

He dropped the act, recognizing a paying customer when he saw one. I really didn't want to break into that big credit chit I had, but if I wanted a job, I figured I should make myself presentable or at least check my makeup. Besides, hanging onto looted money wasn't the best option either.

"Something simple and cheap then, huh?" I nodded curtly and he scratched his chin. "I might have something. Most people that come through here think they're too good for it, but if you aren't picky I might as well make some money off of it." He jerked his head, indicating that I should follow him, and led me further down the hall.

The place was a closet. Literally. The bed barely fit along the back wall and was little more than a mattress. The crushed frame beneath it had clearly had the legs broken off and the only thing supporting it was a set drawers. The floor was covered in something sticky and black and the toilet barely fit next to the cramped shower. After a moment, I spotted the sink which folded up into the wall. But still, it would do.

"Give me an hour to clean it up and it's yours for only 400 credits a month."

I immediately shook my head. I had been looking at apartment prices all morning. "Nuh-uh, these are the slums. The other apartments here—the real ones—go for 600. I'll give you 200 a month, max."

He scowled. "300."

I studied him with a scowl of my own. I didn't have much experience reading Turians, but something told me he had a little give room left. "225."

He shook his head. Not that much give room then. But he wanted me as a tenant. Business must not be too good. I held up my credit chit and watched his eyes flicker to it. "I have 265 credits on this chip. Right here. Right now. The first month."

He hesitated, trying to decide if he could haggle me lower, but eventually gave in, snatching it out of my hand. "I'll draw up a contract and clean it up a bit. Come back in a couple of hours and sign it. 265 a month." He handed me some sort of access card and stormed off and I tried not to smile behind his back. He didn't really seem all that ticked. He might have gone down to 250.

"Okay, check that off the list. Apartment 345." I checked the access card, just to make sure the Turian hadn't pulled a fast one on me, but it worked fine. I did my best to memorize the location and put all of the details I could on the notes app on my omni-tool and then I headed down to the markets.

I froze on my way past the keeper's desk when I heard the name 'Shepard' on his radio. I really would like to know how long I had before Cerberus took over Omega. I hadn't played the 3rd game myself, so the details were fuzzy, but my husband had so I got the jist.

My heart tightened as I thought about him. _No. Not now. Control yourself. He'd expect you to at least do that_, I told myself.

I tried to keep the strain out of my voice as I pointed to the radio. "What's that about?"

My new landlord glanced up disinterestedly. "That Alliance guy, Shepard, died a few days ago. They're having his funeral on the Presidium right now. Damn humans. Think that just 'cause you saved the Citadel and the Counsel, now you deserve a parade," he spat, particularly strong disgust on his face at the mention of the interspecies group.

I relaxed a bit. It would be about two more years then before the shit really hit the fan. And now I knew that this Shepard was a paragon. That made me feel better. I leaned on the counter. "You know, Mardus," I told him, getting his name off the name plate there. "I really can't tell who you hate more: humans or the Counsel."

"The Counsel," he growled without skipping a beat. "Bunch of tight-assed, entitled cowards."

"You mean politicians?"

He cracked a smile. "You humans aren't much different, but at least you make yourselves useful once in a while."

"Someone has to be the cannon fodder. At least we have enthusiasm!" I told him with a wave. He laughed loudly at my retreating back, hopefully feeling better about his new tenant. But I had to get going. That Salarian was going to be in trouble really soon, if he wasn't dead already.

I made my way through the many counters of the market again, pausing between an electronics repair shop and a tattoo place. As much as I doubted that anyone would come to my rescue, the drone of voices from the crowd-from witnesses-still made me feel better. Leaning against a wall to keep my back safe and opening my omni-tool, I went to the contacts section and put in the ten digit code that I memorized as the last contacted number before I reset it. I entered it nervously. If this wasn't the Salarian, then I'd be in trouble. Well, nothing for it. I pressed enter and waited.

Suddenly, I heard a little tone and the two Salarians manning the electronics store right next to me stiffened. My eyes narrowed suspiciously as they exchanged looks, one scared and the other sympathetic.

"Answer it, Barra," the one with the orange and red-striped face ordered solemnly.

The second Salarian with the black horns began to shake. "I—I can't! The Turians haven't started getting sick yet! If I answer, they'll kill Rayalla!"

"He's been with the Blood Pack for a week. Ray is dead. Answer it."

Barra turned so that customers wouldn't see his face and brought up his Omni-tool. "H—hello?"

The voice came over my omni-tool and I sighed. "Barra, I'm sorry."

"Who is this?" I turned off my omni-tool and he blinked in surprise. "Hello?"

As I approached the counter, the orange-faced one moved to intercept me. "Welcome to Loren's Electronics Repair! I'm Loren. What can I do for you?"

Barra gasped as he spotted me. "You!"

"Barra, your son is dead," I told him, trying to keep my voice low and calm while still effectively silencing him. It didn't work.

"B—but you were dying of White Fever! You had the Turian paint on your face! How did you get it off?"

Loren grabbed him roughly by the shoulder, obviously thinking the same thing I was. I leaned forward and pointed at my omni-tool and the Salarians moved closer, playing along with my customer act. "I didn't get the paint off, Barra, I covered it up. Does it come off?"

"Maybe in a years' worth of showers," Loren answered matter-of-factly. "It isn't meant to come off of a Turian's face and they don't have porous skin like humans. I can get you something to at least change the pattern so that you don't have to walk around with a plague warning on your face."

"A plague warning….Awesome sauce."

"What?"

I shook my head. "Nothing. Barra, I'm sorry. Your son was killed a few days ago for biting the Krogan's boss."

"Rayalla…." he wimpered.

"You need to scram, Barra," I told him firmly, trying to keep him focused. "If I don't end up infecting someone soon, they'll come after you."

He nodded, swallowing, and scanned me with his omni-tool. "I was a medic until the clinic closed. That's why they came to me. I'll be able to tell if you're still sick." There was a long pause as Loren and I pretended to examine my omni-tool and Barra studied his data. "Fever gone, white blood cells dropping, systems stabilizing. You're not sick. Possible cure from cryogenic freezing. Outlasted virus."

"Outlasted it?" I frowned.

"Yes. White Fever is capable of surviving extremely cold temperatures. While your cells were in stasis, the virus lived on. But without an active cell they had no way of reproducing. The virus can only survive 13 years without a host, so it died. At least, that's my theory. How long were you frozen?"

"A long time," I told him with a sigh. "At any rate, if I'm not spreading the Fever, then you need to run."

Loren nodded solemn agreement. "The human is right, Barra. You need to get your family and get off of Omega."

He hesitated. "Thank you, Loren. It been a pleasure." With a little bow, the Salarian scurried out from behind the counter. "And human, you need to update your immunizations and have your respiratory system examined for deficiencies. Find a Salarian named Mordin and tell him that Barra is calling in a favor." And then he was gone.

Mordin. Crap. I didn't think he'd be here already. "You can find him in his lab in the Gozu District."

"He has a lab?"

"Oh yeah. I don't think he ever leaves. Well, sometimes he disappears for a few days, but he's usually there, though nobody knows exactly what he's doing. I can take you there after closing, if you like."


	2. Cold Feet

_**Chapter**_** 2:_ Cold Feet_**

2 years later:

Mordin's checkup was a bit of a disappointment. I showed up, dropped Barra's name, and was promptly knocked unconscious. Four hours later, I woke up with a horrible pain in my chest. He handed me an immunization record, some pain killers, and a paste to put on the long scar on my chest. Only after demanding an explanation, did he finally mutter something about my lungs being deformed and having to be replaced. I'm pretty sure that he did a lung transplant, which made me a bit concerned about why he had human lungs on hand.

But after that I was shooed out and never saw his face again. I was a bit worried that the ever-talkative Mordin hardly said a word to me—he must have been extremely preoccupied with whatever he was doing. The next day, he disappeared and his lab was found, empty.

Loren was at least friendlier. After the Blood Pact came looking for Barra and found him gone, I helped him clean up the destruction of his shop. He offered me a job then and I did mostly clean up and sales. My ability to bargain turned into a real asset, but it was the electronics that I wanted to work with. Loren made a quick learner out of me, taking to rapping me on the forehead with his bony fingers when I said something technologically stupid.

He was a really good teacher, because after about six months, I started setting myself up as the Shadow Broker of Omega. They called me the Alpha of Omega. But unlike the real Shadow Broker, I didn't have agents—not willing ones anyway. Through a series of bugs and sensors I had my finger on the pulse of the galaxy's underground. After all, information was the only thing I had to sell at the moment. What else was I supposed to do with myself?

And that's where I was this morning. Exactly 2 years after waking up I was still in that crappy little closet of an apartment, skimming over mountains of data as I finished breakfast.

There was a decrease in traffic in the Doru district, near the water treatment facility. Archangel had paid modestly for that information about the Blue Suns tripping all the sensors down there. Now the mercenaries had been chased away and the station's water supply was safe. Good.

I had taken quite a liking to Archangel—I would have even if I hadn't known that he was Garrus—and told him so, offering greatly reduced prices for my information. In exchange, they took all the risk. Now, I didn't have to worry about another sighting of 'a little human girl with black paint on her face.' I blushed at the memory. I was stupid. I had let one of Aria's bodyguards out of my line of sight and he flanked me. I shot him of course, but he got that description across his radio to Aria. Now everyone knew who Alpha was…sort of. They still hadn't caught me. I just had to keep the paint covered up.

But something else was wrong. Virtually all traffic had stopped to Gozu District. I sat up suddenly. Now? I scanned the extranet, finding exactly what I didn't want: articles about missing colonists. That could only mean one thing.

I smeared my makeup on with a quick, practiced hand, dressed (the only thing that had changed about my stolen garb was that it was newer, fit better, and had a pair of black gloves), and grabbed my backpack. I stuffed it with my extra clothes, spare credit chits, and data storage boxes, effectively emptying the room. I had to move, I thought, braiding my ponytail quickly. I sprinted out the door and toward the Kenzo District, the only route still open.

How could I have not seen it coming? The elcor bouncer had been hired at Afterlife, the quarian Kenn had just showed up three days ago and started that new salvage place, Archangel's team was growing more bold, and it had been 2 years and 10 days since Shepard was pronounced KIA. The plague was here.

I rapped urgently on Mardus' door. The guy had given me a cheap room for two years now and I at least owed him a warning. He didn't see the favor I was doing for him, though because I heard a snarl through the door. "What do you want?"

"Mardus, it's me. Open up." There was a pause before he wrenched the door open, glaring daggers at me. From his half-dressed appearance, I guessed that I'd interrupted private time with his wife. "Get dressed, grab your credit chits, and follow me."

He blinked in surprise, his angry expression faltering. "What?"

"I need you to trust me right now, no questions asked, and I need you to do it in no more than 30 seconds."

"Why?"

"We don't have much time."

He scowled again. "I'd guessed we needed to hurry, but why should I trust you?"

"Because if you don't, you and your wife will die." His scowl disappeared when he saw the serious look on my face. "20 seconds."

He just about met my time hack, he and his wife straightening their clothes while we walked at a purposeful but not suspicious pace. People were still using that exit…for now. I just hoped we wouldn't have to go crawling through ducts. I wasn't even sure Mardus would fit through one of those grates. In fact, I was positive he wouldn't. And that was assuming that the ventilation system hadn't already been isolated.

"Where are we going, Casey?"

"No questions. And don't look so edgy. We can't draw attention to ourselves."

"Well, you're freaking me out." I didn't answer, just kept my eyes on the prize. We were so close. I could see the door to the Kenzo District. If it opened for us and there was no guard on the other side, then we were home free. "Hold on a second."

I whipped around to see Mardus' eyes lock on a batarian with a bad cough. Each heave of air nearly took him off of his feet. I snagged my landlord firmly by the arm. "No, Mardus. We can't stop. It's too late for him."

"He needs a hospital."

"You're going to need a morgue if you catch what he's got."

Suddenly, his eyes widened in realization and horror. "Plague."

He followed me the rest of the way out of Gozu and I sighed in relief as we rounded a corner. I turned to face them. "You and your wife are going to the famous coffee shop a few blocks away. Then, you're taking a shuttle to Tuhi for a few hours of shopping before trying to head back to Gozu."

"Trying?"

"You didn't really speak to anyone until you got to the coffee shop and you don't remember seeing anything suspicious. Here." I handed him the key to my room.

He looked down at it, still clearly trying to process what was happening. "You aren't coming back, are you?"

"If everything goes according to plan…no. Bye Mardus." I moved out after that, heading to a little café to grab a scone while I did some research. The clinic in the residential district we'd just fled was sending reports to Aria. I couldn't read them without their encryption key, but there was solid correspondence starting around 10:00 last night. They didn't have a whole lot of dedicated staff, though, so they would probably be shutting down soon.

I had to find Mordin. I didn't know if the mailing address on the immunization record he gave me was still operational, but a little tracing should do the trick. As long as he didn't defend himself. Loren and the extranet had taught me a lot about electronics, but Mordin had been doing this for a long time. I prepared my fake email and sent it, waiting impatiently for the system response. Bingo. There was an email sent to him yesterday that had been opened. Chances were good that he was—

I scowled and shut my omni-tool off as I realized that he was trying to use that connection to locate me. He was a damn fast bastard. But the address was legitimate. I waited as it rebooted, then made an equally legitimate message about the plague and some of its details, both from what I remembered of the game and my gleanings from my bugs. That one in Aria's loft had proven itself invaluable once again, despite the five weeks of planning and preparation it had taken me to plant it. I spent most of the morning listening to it. Mordin would take the bait. He had to.

I hadn't detected any messages being sent to Sidonis yet, so Garrus was probably safe for now, but an extended listening to recordings from Jaroth's favorite Afterlife corner brought up a name I almost forgot about.

Zaeed.

The ruthless mercenary was an optional character, so I didn't even think about him. Being hired by the Eclipse boss, he could be instrumental for Shepard or detrimental to Garrus. My only chance would be to recommend him to the Illusive Man for his team. I'd just have to hope that I'd caught his attention enough to come looking to me for information. Or I would have to find Cerberus' contact on the station.

Where would Cerberus hide? Aria's court? It was dangerous, but that was where the information was. Still, Cerberus operated in teams for specific missions. If he wanted information, he could just pay for it. His employees tended to be more active. Besides, Aria was well known for her ability to sniff out spies. Unless he was already planning his takeover of Omega. It seemed a little soon—he had other problems at the moment—but it was possible.

I searched messages sent from upper Afterlife immediately after Aria announced the plague, but none of them were going to anyone suspicious, just to other mercenaries. Again, my sensors also had a function to read data streams in the air and could tell who sent and received them, but the messages were always encrypted—especially coming from Aria's thugs. I couldn't read them and that was annoying. I tried doing a background check on all of her bodyguards, but they seemed clean. This wasn't working.

Frustrated, I changed to my regular omni-tool and headed to work. For obvious reasons I didn't want to send my Alpha emails to it, but I did keep it with me at all times, along with my makeup.

_Relax_, I told myself. I still had two days until Shepard woke up and probably a few more until he got here. I could start really worrying then. For now, I had to focus on what could make me valuable to Shepard. I didn't come all this way into the future to sit back and watch—to hope it all worked out like it did in the game. I was going to be a major player.

The shop was busy today, with people coming in to get masks and breathers tested and, occasionally, repaired. They would stand in line for an hour as our atmospheric machine did its thing. At five minutes per device, it was running all day. We kept having to run water over it and put a fan on it to keep it from overheating. The worst part was that there was nothing for me to do while it ran. We just stood there watching it. On the plus side, I got to listen to some of my bugs in real time, hoping desperately to gain inspiration for my play for a spot on the Normandy.

Aria was holding court all day, voice growing more and more furious with each person she saw. Mostly, it was people begging for their loved ones trapped in the Gozu District, or residents wanting to get their things. She let one in five go in, but quickly grew frustrated and declared a final lockdown, refusing to see anyone else on the subject. From then on it was just mercenary gangs whining about the loss of territory.

We closed at 5:00 like usual and I went immediately to the gym before continuing to listen in. I'd been working out at Lenny's Combat Gym since I'd first started getting a paycheck. I wasn't bad, either. With my new lungs I was faster and could go longer. Not having any physical enhancements, I should have been at a disadvantage sparring, but I loved it so much that I practiced hard and got good. I was a decent shot, too, but that was nothing like the martial arts. I liked the close quarters sparring, however impractical it may have been in the days of shield generators and biotics.

Lenny was the leader and a Turian biotic who was kicked out of his special forces unit for killing a fellow soldier while sparring. After that he drifted as a bounty hunter and assassin until his eyesight gave out. It didn't make him a nice coach, but he was effective. He preferred the sink or swim method. He'd show you a new move no more than three times before putting you to the test.

One of the reasons I succeeded was that I had done some training with my husband, who loved martial arts too, and I knew how important muscle memory was. I would practice every technique I could remember every night in my cramped little closet while going over recordings and mulling data and Lenny could always tell the days I skipped.

Today the gym was empty. A good majority of the students here—hell, a good majority of the station—lived in the Gozu District. It was just me and Lenny, who lived in the back. I stretched out and warmed up a bit before we got started on sparring.

It was a rough day to be Lenny's only student. He always got angry and anxious whenever anything happened on the station that sent people scurrying. Especially when there were no other people to train to keep his mind occupied. I walked away with at least one broken rib and an assortment of other tender areas. Luckily, he kept his first aid station well stocked and soon I set to work on the bag and then katas.

I was exhausted by the time I left and, after a quick shower I headed back to the electronics shop. Loren was letting me sleep there while my apartment was quarantined. I curled up in the corner behind the atmosphere machine, reviewed today's arrivals and departures on the station, and quickly fell asleep.

.0

A few days later, things had fallen into place. It was time for Shepard to wake up after 2 years and 12 days of being dead. Garrus had just returned to his fortress with the dwindling remains of his team. He'd already wired me credits for information on Sidonis' whereabouts and I'd done just enough virus uploading into the mercs' personal electronic devices and mechs to buy him time. It wasn't much, but one in three freelancers' shields failed before they even set foot on the bridge and detailed maps of the area were mysteriously gone from omni-tools and data pads everywhere. Mordin showed up almost instantly after my message and I was on the lookout for messages sent by survivors who had been locked into their apartments by the merc bands. I donated the locations to him in hopes that he might be able to help, but I doubted that he would have time to spend on rescue missions. I would have loved to get a bug into his clinic, but he probably would have found it anyway. And Zaeed showed up this morning.

I monitored the situation as best as I dared at work, but it was difficult and I spent the entire day bouncing my foot impatiently. _Come on, Shepard, we need you. The sick people need you. Garrus needs you. Wake your ass up already!_

We were finally closing up, traffic in the markets dwindling as station residents headed home or to the club, when I got the email. It was from Cerberus.

_Alpha,_

_ It is my understanding that you are employed in the information business. If that is the case, then I would like you to know that we are a wealthy group willing to pay a substantial amount of credits for information on two individuals. The first is Dr. Mordin Solus, a Salarian who we believe recently arrived on Omega. The second goes by the name of Archangel and is an entirely unknown entity. _

_ We will pay you 2,000,000 credits for whatever information you can provide. Keep in touch._

_-Cerberus_

I sighed, slightly relieved. First things first. I knew how to be an information dealer. I couldn't let all of that go just because of who I was talking to.

_Send the money._

_-Alpha_

Again, I waited, watching the credits show up on my omni-tool's faceless account. They worked fast. That was a lot of credits. I quietly downloaded them onto a spare chit and dropped it into my pocket. Loren saw my extra serious face and moved up to close the shutters. Bless his heart. He never once asked questions about my after-hours activities.

_Cerberus,_

_ Thank you for your business. Here is what I have on the individuals you specified._

_Mordin Solus arrived three days ago on a ship from Sur'Kesh. He is a doctor, geneticist, and former STG operative. His military assignments are well-classified, although it has been suggested that he was involved in the genophage project. Immediately after setting foot on the station, he was summoned by Aria T'Loak and announced his intention to set up a clinic in the quarantined plague zone. Attached is a picture taken shortly before he entered the quarantine zone. Mordin seems to prefer short range firearms, though it is assumed that he is comfortable with all manner of weapons. He has not been heard from since, though he sent a series of encrypted messages to an unknown recipient off world and had military-grade mechs delivered to him inside. _

_As for Archangel, I have far less information available. He is the leader of a vigilante group that started up on Omega about six months ago. They devote most of their resources to upsetting the local mercenary groups which include the Blue Suns, Eclipse, and the Blood Pact, but they have also been known to target the slavers and murderers who prey on the station's inhabitants. Archangel is a Turian with obvious military experience and runs precise, low-risk, high-impact operations with his team. There were at least ten members, though their exact numbers are unknown and decreasing since the group was pinned down a few hours ago by all three mercenary gangs previously mentioned. An experienced freelance mercenary, Zaeed Massani, has been hired to take him out and arrived on Omega this morning. If you would like Archangel to stay alive, I would strongly suggest offering Mr. Massani more than the 50,000 credits he has been promised by Eclipse. _

_If you have any other information requests, send them now._

_-Alpha_

I attached a still-frame of Mordin from one of my cameras and a short video clip of one of Archangel's firefights and sent the email. Taking a deep breath, I sat down on a crate and brushed my fingers through my hair.

"I'm going to take off, Casey. See you tomorrow."

I nodded to Loren before noticing that the bug in Aria's loft had stopped transmitting. It must have been discovered. Curious, I rewound the last audio details and played them back.

"_You got out of Gozu awfully conveniently, Mardus."_

"Loren, wait. Jus for a second," I begged, listening to Aria's gravelly voice. He hesitated.

"_We were just going shopping…."_

"_Bullshit, Mardus. You never leave that little shithole of yours. You were warned about the plague by one of my guys, and I want to know who."_

"_No! No, I wasn't!"_

"_Get the rag. Mardus, this rag has vomit on it from the clinic in the quarantine zone. If you don't want a slow, painful death, you'll tell me who warned you."_

"_No! It wasn't any of your guys, it was one of my tenants! Casey Reid!"_ I swore.

"_Who the hell is that?" _her batarian bodyguard growled.

"_Wait!" _Aria commanded. _"Somebody scan this place for bugs, right now!"_ There were sounds of confusion for a long moment, followed by a beep and a static sound as my listening device was found. After that, I only heard one word. _"Alpha."_

"Loren, I'm leaving. And I'm not coming back. Take this and get home, now. It should cover any damage they do to the store."

He took the credit chit I'd downloaded my Cerberus sale to while I gathered my things, staring incredulously back and forth between me and it. "Casey, who's going to destroy my store?"

He was giving me such a hurt look that it actually broke my heart. He never asked—not ever—even when I was being really suspicious. I owed him something. "Loren, I am Alpha. I know that you know, but now Aria does too. She's going to find out where I work and she's going to come looking for me. You need to get home. Now. I'm sorry." And then I ran.

I wasn't going to the gym today. I needed to gather my emergency things. And so it went. Aria's hired hands were everywhere, but they didn't know me. I just casually peeled my hidden credit chits off the undersides of coffee tables in various lounges and from between the pages of an old book in the antiques store. Out of seven hidden ones, three were still there, which was good, considering how many people on Omega made their living scavenging through the trash. Only my spare food and water stores in hidden compartments on the undersides of the shuttles were untouched. Just one thing left.

My sniper rifle.

Everyone wore their armor under their casual clothes these days and everyone was armed, so my expensive light armor that I hid beneath mine drew no more attention than the excellent pistol I'd hidden in the shell of a clunky old model and attached to my belt. The only thing that a store clerk couldn't carry openly was that sniper rifle. I'd hidden it beneath a loose panel in the counter of my favorite restaurant. Guess it was time for dinner.

On my way there, plans changed. Aria's goons had finally gotten a lead with my gym and were sprinting in that direction when a Krogan drove his elbow up and out into my still healing ribs. I went headfirst over the railing and almost out into darkness. Only Lenny's hard-learned training gave me the reflexes and finger strength to snag the top of the wall as I was going over.

Now I was in a precarious position: upside down with my back against the outside of the low wall and my feet in the air. I was stuck, with my center of gravity too low to manipulate and my backpack dragging me down. "Hey, assholes!" I snarled at their retreating forms. But they paid me no attention. Great. I was slipping. The tops of these walls were rounded and I wasn't going to last much longer. Was this how I was going to die? Go all the way to the Mass Effect universe, only to fall to my death before I made any difference whatsoever? They hadn't even killed me on purpose! It was almost insulting.

"Hang in there, girly. Upsy daisy." The voice came from above somewhere and a scarred hand grabbed my boot, levering me into an upright position on solid ground. "That's better."

"Thanks." It was a good thing he turned to glare suspiciously at the Krogan, because my reaction to having my life saved by Zaeed Massani would not have stayed off my face.

"What are they in such a big hurry for?" he growled, slowly turning back to face me. Knowing that I'd never be able to school my expression in time, I settled for twisting it into outrage.

"They're Aria's bodyguards. They probably think they've found Alpha again," I responded, trying to put as much contempt into my voice as possible, if only to hide my anxiety. "Those idiots couldn't find their own noses."

He nodded. "Alpha, eh? I heard about that one. Some little girl with black paint on her face playing Shadow Broker of Omega." I waited as he acted out his whole train of thought. He had a question for me. "Looks to me like you're living out of that backpack, Sweetheart. What say you to a trade? I've a pretty penny here if you can tell me how to contact this Alpha kid."

I had practiced the role of starving orphan many times while on Omega. Even here—especially here—they were 'the unseen ones.' So when I saw that chit come out, I locked my eyes onto it. After a moment, I snatched it and shoved it in my pocket, reflecting on the irony of an information broker selling information about her information selling services. "Well, everyone knows that Sir. I'll show you." I motioned for him to follow me into Afterlife—a risky move if I've ever seen one—and strolled through the front. The place was already getting full, despite the relatively early hour, and I chose a barstool, ordering a soda. Zaeed, of course, chose something a little stronger. "See that?" I asked over the music, motioning with my eyes to the plastic advertisement holoprojector on the bar on his other side. "On the bottom of it is Alpha's contact number. She changes it every month or so, but nobody knows exactly when. It's there for anybody, but you better be careful not to let Aria see you looking. She not fond of her."

"Thanks, kid." He nodded and held up his glass in a little salute.

Suddenly, there was the shout of a fight breaking out from behind me and the tipping of barstools. I turned just in time to see a glass heading straight for my face. I didn't quite have time to dodge it, but I took the hit on my forehead rather than my nose. The cheap, flimsy thing promptly shattered, spilling alcohol all over me. I snarled and swiped at my brow, but they ignored me, continuing their fight. It was only after I saw the white on my glove that I realized that I had wiped off some of my makeup. Shit.

"This just ain't your night, Sweetheart," Zaeed chuckled. And then, suddenly, his eyes narrowed. "Oi…what is that on your face?" I watched him go from amusement to suspicious rage in under a second and he stood.

I couldn't help it. I gave him a smirk. "Welcome to Omega, Zaeed Massani."

He dove at me, but I was fast and used to the disorienting light. I slipped off my stool, skipped through the brawlers, and slid feet first under the railing beneath the dancer's stage. His shot tore through the music and ricocheted off the floor and up past my ear. It was a close one, but I knew the area between upper and lower Afterlife like the back of my hand after all those weeks of planning my route to Aria's loft, so once I got down here I was practically untouchable.

Still. I had been seen again. That was going to make staying alive until Shepard's arrival even more difficult. This time the witness was alive and had time to describe me in detail. Life really wasn't looking up. If I didn't get recruited by the Alliance hero, then I was going to have to figure out how to get onto the Citadel without any identification. Damn it, Zaeed.

I checked my omni-tool again, but Shepard wasn't here yet. Freedom's Progress was only ten hours gone. I would have to be patient. I half ran through the back alleys to get to the restaurant before Zaeed would have a chance to wander that way and ordered dinner to go. If the cook noticed how strangely I was acting, he didn't say anything, just handed me my burger and let me leave. He also said nothing about the rifle that appeared out of nowhere. Now I just needed a place to bed down.

My sensors registered Zaeed heading into this area, so I beat it to the Doru district. I had to climb past the guard through the ducts, but the low traffic area provided me a lot more secure hiding places. I made myself comfortable on the top of the emergency water pump which, at 15 feet tall, was well above eye level. I went over some more data before determining that the best thing I could do for now was nothing at all. So, exhausted and anxious, I fell into an uneasy sleep.


	3. Play it Cool

_**Chapter 3: Play it Cool**_

I didn't sleep all that well, with only my bag for cushioning, but I got a few hours altogether. I woke up every now and then to monitor the situation on the station.

I had just sent Zaeed the location of his batarian bounty as a reward for not being overly descriptive with Aria's bodyguards outside of Afterlife after the incident, when flight control was sent a-twitter. I accessed their systems and finally found him. Shepard. There goes Zaeed, finally catching his batarian prisoner, as well as Fargut and Moklan, storming up to greet the vessel.

I had put sensors and cameras over every inch of the docking bay for this moment and I projected the images and sounds from my omni-tool in the privacy of the treatment facility. It was crucial that Shepard speak to Zaeed, or they were going to have a lot more trouble rescuing Garrus.

"Come on, Shepard," I hissed, carefully watching the male default face.

"_Cut the attitude. I'm not here to cause problems for Omega."_

Good. Still paragon. Jacob and Miranda stayed silent, watching him work, and Moklan finally stepped aside. Shepard was proceeding down the hall…

"_Are you Zaeed Massani?"_

I sighed in relief and put the camera projections away. Good, he got Zaeed. Now, I needed to make my own move. I stuck to my mics alone as I wormed my way back through ducts and out of the Doru district.

"_And Shepard. Watch out for that Alpha character, she's a right nasty bitch. Never saw her coming."_

I scowled when I heard it. I practically handed him his bounty, what more did he expect as an apology for tricking him? Ah well, I knew Zaeed was a bastard, even just playing the games. The way he was pouting, you'd think I shot at him! Men were so sensitive….

They talked about me for a minute before heading in to see Aria. I really needed another recording device in there if I was going to stay any longer. It was just so difficult with all of the music. I couldn't hear anything over it unless the mike was really close and set up to disregard certain frequencies of sound. It was difficult with batarian and turian voices, though, with their dual-tones. Or I could try out my adhesive bug. I could just attach it to Shepard. If I could combine it with one of my mini tracking devices it would allow me to keep tabs on him. No cameras, though. Mordin fixed my lungs and even my eczema, but not my motion sickness when it came to movies and things. No way was I going down that road.

I fished around in my left pocket as best as I could in the narrow duct and pulled out my baggies. Inside, were my excruciatingly small friends. Most people didn't understand the frustrating task of assembling something smaller than the head of a pin, but I had spent hours upon hours in Loren's shop after closing. It needed a CPU, an audio receptor, a transmitter, a power source... It wasn't easy business, but I had this station wired by now. Damn, being an information broker was hard work.

I put the bag labeled 'cameras' off to the side and focused on the 'audio' and 'GPS' ones. Of course, there was no GPS here. My trackers went off of proximity to scanners, but it meant that nobody else would understand what was in the bag. Then out came the bottle of glue. This stuff was amazing, really. I wish we'd had it back in the day. Using plenty of light, I brushed the glue onto the bottom of the bug away from the audio receptor and pushed it down onto the flat top of the tracking device. This was much more visible. Twice as easy to spot but twice as useful, too.

Now, back to the Tuhi district. After cleaning up, I held the devices carefully between my left thumb and index finger and climbed out of the ventilation system. I needed to get to Afterlife before Shepard went to get Mordin or Garrus. My camera out there caught him going in, but not leaving yet. Luckily, he still had Miranda and Jacob with him, rather than Zaeed, who would recognize me.

I lucked out again when he left the club and headed straight to the nearby markets for equipment. There were a decent number of people out and about yet. I could blend into them, get close while Shepard was talking with a merchant. I slipped into a corner and applied the glue to the bottom side of the tracking device, moved it carefully to my right hand, and pretended to be interested in Halot's salvaged crap.

Still. There was no opening. Every time Shepard leaned in to speak with somebody, Jacob would turn around and pull security, eyes on the crowd. I'd forgotten how difficult it was to deal with disciplined soldiers. Most of the people out here were on the shady side for the freedom from such rules. I needed a distraction. A Batarian was using his credit chit on the kiosk on the other side of the market. If I was quick and discreet…

A mighty roar drew everyone's attention to the store as the enraged Batarian protested the disappearance of every credit on his chit, as opposed to the 300 he meant to spend. I moved up to where Shepard stood and gently pressed my finger to the underside of his grenade launcher mount. Jacob spotted me a moment later and appeared to object to my closeness, but I just looked around Shepard's shoulder, feigned disinterest, and turned to the kiosk a short distance away, scanning it briefly.

"_Shepard, we really should go acquire Dr. Solus as soon as possible."_ That was Miranda. Good. The device was working.

"_I know, I know. I just want to find those FBA Couplings that Ken and Gabby mentioned before I forget."_ Shepard's voice was a little fuzzy since the recorder was behind him, but I could hear him well enough. Now, I could keep tabs on Shepard at all times, no matter where he was.

With the bug planted I headed around to check the electronics store and gym. Loren looked shaky and some of the equipment was smashed behind the counter, but he didn't look hurt and I didn't see any bullet holes or anything.

At the gym, the front window was broken and Lenny was pissed, if the look of the other students was anything to go by, but he was alive and unhurt. Not that I expected anything less of my master. Aria's goons hadn't even stood a chance, I'm sure.

"_Alright, Miranda, you and Zaeed are going into the quarantine zone with me to get Dr. Solus. Sorry, Jacob, I've got to see what he can do."_

"_No worries, Commander."_

I sighed heavily. What was I supposed to do now? I had been mentioned in passing but I clearly wasn't on Shepard's radar. Not in teammate capacity, anyway. Maybe I could send him the locations of the trapped individuals that Mordin hadn't saved. Doing so for free would look a tad suspicious, but I had to secure a spot on the Normandy and I had to do it fast, without appearing too eager. I sent the three locations still transmitting messages to loved ones to the Commander, with the added note that my bill had already been paid by one of the families.

Not sure what to do with myself, I wandered toward my old apartment, just to hear the line 'You don't have a grenade launcher, lady,' in person. I missed it. Home. Cuddled up with my husband. I was surviving out here, I supposed, but this galaxy was colder and darker than it had ever been before. Here came Shepard, the character that had occupied more hours of my life than I cared to admit. And Miranda, one of my least favorite people in Mass Effect. I disliked her character, along with Zaeed, Jack, and the obvious antagonists. Wait a minute…where was Zaeed?

A horrible feeling rolled in my stomach. The last time I had lost sight of a target, Aria had gotten a brief but telling description of me. Nostalgia would be the end of me. I set my omni-tool to the stun function I had programmed and backed up further into the shadows.

"'Ello, Sweetheart."

I swung my omni-tool around behind me and connected with the outside of his arm. He'd had his assault rifle seated behind my head, but was unable to adjust it as his muscles all seized up. Still, he managed to fire off several rounds and alert the other two, who came running. I fired a dampening at Miranda and pointed my pistol at Zaeed to deter Shepard.

"Didn't anyone ever teach you not to sneak up behind a girl?" I growled, heart still racing. Of all the tricky spots I'd found myself in, this was easily the worst. Three on one with people I couldn't kill? Not to mention my research showed that Shepard was an adept. I only had my dampening against that and I could only get one person. It was either him or Miranda, not both.

"You're worse than my ex-wife," Zaeed groaned, swearing as he rose to a knee.

"You came that close to reproducing? The horror."

"Why don't we all just calm down and put away our guns?" Shepard suggested firmly.

"I'd do what he says," Miranda told me with a glare.

I smiled humorlessly. "Why don't I follow your lead? I don't want to kill the people going after the Collectors, but I'll do what I must to prolong my life." They all exchanged uneasy glances and Shepard reluctantly holstered his weapons. I didn't put mine away, but I lowered it. "There. Isn't that better?"

"You're the girl from the markets." I smiled guiltily at the dark-haired woman, who grew angry almost immediately. "How did you know about our mission?"

"Don't pretend you don't know who I am, Miranda. I wouldn't be worth my salt if I didn't look into what motivated a dead spectre to visit Omega." She seemed to understand that I was avoiding the question, but she didn't pry.

"Why did you send me that information?" Shepard demanded.

"Because I'm not the boogeyman. I had friends and neighbors in there...at least, until the other day. Thanks for that, by the way."

Zaeed laughed at my sarcasm. "I thought you said that Aria's men couldn't find their own noses."

I scowled. "They're idiots, but Aria is not. All the good things I had going are gone now, because you called me out."

"I also saved your life."

Shepard and Miranda looked mildly surprised but they didn't ask any questions, just waited for my response. My nostrils flared. "…Yes…you did."

"Then howsabout you quit your hiding? Let's face it, you ain't got much left here for ya, and we know you can handle yourself." I backed up suspiciously. "Whadaya say, Shepard? Want to at least give her a test run?"

The Commander considered it, looking me over. "You know how to use that rifle?"

"Well enough," I admitted. I'd gotten some good practice in over the last two years.

And then came the end of my excitement. "I don't like it, Shepard. We don't know anything about her." There was Miranda. Always making sense and crushing dreams.

He gave her a look, still not happy about the idea of Cerberus choosing his team, probably. "I think Zaeed is right. If she knows about the mission already and she is willing to help, then she can show us her qualifications when we go after Archangel. I think her, Jacob, and I can handle it, don't you? Especially if she knows her way around the station as well as she thinks she does."

"I do," I assured him. "And fine. Just say when and I'll come find you. I needed to get off this station anyway. And don't take your time in there. Archangel's in pretty bad shape." I backed up then, slipped around the corner, and dodged into the men's room. The Blue Suns had put in a hidden exit in here for easy maneuverability. I removed the wall panel, stepped through, and replaced it as quietly as possible, listening. As expected, Zaeed stormed in but he didn't sound surprised when he said:

"She's gone."

.0

I tried not to get too far from Afterlife, the center of everything on Omega, but I stayed clear of the bodyguards who sprinted this way and that. I tried to eat a little and hydrate for what was to come, but I was just too nervous. I couldn't blow this. What if I got Garrus killed? Or Shepard? I sighed again. Maybe I should bed down again. I could use some rest and they would be gone for another hour at least, spreading the cure.

The stripper's quarters always had an open bed for…tours, as Aria called them. It wasn't the most hygienic choice, but if I stripped the sheets off it should be bearable. I nodded to myself and headed around the corner. Looked like more crawling through the ventilation system for me—it was a good thing I was so puny.

This time, though, when I pulled the grate away, I found a few rust-colored spots. Blood. Mine. From when I had first woken up. It was strange that I'd been all over Omega, but never come back here.

No. Getting sentimental was what let Zaeed sneak up on me last time. I slithered in and closed it behind me, crawling with practiced quiet up to the next exit. It was empty here, being not even dinner yet, so I slipped out and into the nearest room. I set a few sensors out in the hallway before locking the door and ripping the bedding off.

"Oh…God. This feels so good. I haven't had a bed like this in years…hundreds of years…" I moaned. "Hm…I should invest in a real apartment next time." I tried not to think about the thin military mattress that awaited on the Normandy. "Okay, how are you guys doing?"

I turned on the mic attached to Shepard and listened to the sounds of gunfire. _"There's the first fan switch!" _Miranda called.

"_Overload that pyro!"_ came his reply.

Fan switches already? Aw…my bed wasn't going to last long. Oh well, better prepare for the next mission. Shepard was going to be tiring. This wasn't a game where a little medigel fixed you up in three seconds flat. I had no doubt the mission would succeed, but the more pressure I could take off Shepard, the better. Besides, this was my only chance to prove myself. I spread out on the bed and set to work re-memorizing the hideout.

I was really hoping that Shepard would leave me with Garrus when he went to clean the tunnels. I was confident enough with the sniper rifle and my tech attacks, but I sucked at the tunnels in the game and I didn't see how real life would be any different. I didn't have any fully automatic or mid-range weapons and I hadn't trained my tech attacks enough to hit more than one enemy at a time.

I set aside the blueprints and focused on the cameras instead. I wasn't able to plant many of them, not with that restricted access, but it was enough to identify some of the areas of cover that Garrus had set up. I made my own 3D blueprint and placed some brightly colored characters in the best vantage points. I really wish I had better pictures…. I scowled as I watched another wave of freelancers sprint across the bridge, falling one by one. A pointless waste of life. They knew it was suicide, but being men they wouldn't sacrifice their pride once they'd agreed to take the mission. So stupid.

They all were, I realized. I was the only one who knew what was going to happen, the only one who could truly prepare myself. It wasn't fair, really. Shepard deserved to know. Of all people, he should know how it was going to end. So why me? I didn't even belong here. I didn't even have a reason to survive. Everyone else did, though. They deserved to know. If only I wasn't afraid that it would mess everything up.

Was I still just playing the game?

.0

"_Okay, Jacob. Are you ready?"_

"_All set, Commander. We just need Alpha."_

I sent Shepard a message, telling him I'd be right there and reluctantly abandoned the bed. I checked my hallway sensors and found them clear, but when I opened the door….

I've never loaded a dampening program so fast in my life.

Aria was kneeling, examining the grate I'd come through. I'd been hurried and lazy. It wasn't like anyone had ever caught me before. I'd just figured there were duct rats here the same as on the Citadel. But she'd found a screw I hadn't twisted in and somehow she knew.

There was murder in her eyes when she turned and saw me. "Alpha." I threw the dampening before she could launch an attack with her biotics and then turned tail, right out the door into Lower Afterlife. The only people in here were her bodyguards, who milled lazily about around the bar, drinking. They all froze, like deer in the headlights until they heard Aria's furious roar. Guess that was my sign to crank up the power on my shields.

The bullets started flying immediately and I sprinted down the ramp on the left, toward the markets, but Aria dove after me, snagging my braid. I screamed in surprise and pain and sank my omni-blade into her arm. She let go and I kept running, closing the electronically activated door behind me and locking it. Crap, my shields were down and I had taken a hit on my right shoulder blade. My armor had absorbed most of it, though. And then the door blew up. I cleared out before the smoke settled, but my guess was that Aria had confiscated some sort of grenade launcher. Not that it mattered. I just had to keep moving.

I sprinted up some steps and vaulted the counter of the used furniture store, slipping past the startled human and around another corner before Aria's guys caught sight of me. And here was my favorite restaurant, where I'd hidden my sniper rifle. The cook was standing there and smiled as I approached.

"Casey! You missed dinner—"

"Thanks, Charles!" I whispered, snagging the to-go box he offered me. "I'll transfer the credits soon!"

"There she is! Get Alpha!" I heard a Krogan shout. Driving through the middle of a wedding party, I dropped into a softball slide and under the railing to the bottom of a small staircase. A second removable panel and I was in a little crawl space. Aria's men searched the area and even the restricted storage room behind the locked door, but they didn't find me. I just had to wait a while for them to leave. If Shepard didn't wait for me, I was going to kill someone.

Luckily, I managed to slip away and catch up with the Commander. He was just about to walk into Afterlife when I jogged up behind them. Jacob gave me a distrustful glare. "You're late."

"Fashionably."

Shepard looked me over and nodded. "What's that?"

I looked down and remembered my to-go box. "Oh. Dinner. Want some?"

He shook his head. "Let's head back to the Normandy and you can drop your things."

Miranda took my backpack, and I tried not to scowl. No doubt she'd be pawing through it when I left, which meant she'd have access to all of my stored data. It was encrypted with my own special key, but I had no doubt that EDI would be able to crack it before we got back.

"Ready now?" Shepard asked impatiently. I checked my thermal clips before nodding. "Good, let's get going. Aria said that the merc recruiting station was in Afterlife."

"Oh yeah, of course." I tried not to groan too loudly as I followed him. "They love me there."

"So what do you know about this Archangel guy?" he asked quietly.

I sighed and tried to turn my mind back into the information broker, Alpha. "He's a Turian. Ex-military, but aren't they all? He showed up a few months ago and put together a team. They mostly go out and mess with the mercenary bands' operations—vigilantes trying to clean up the streets—but they're very organized. Despite the individual teammates' lack of training, Archangel gets them working like a special forces unit. Very precise and clean, but I told all of this to the Illusive Man."

"I was hoping you could give us a name," Shepard told me with a yawn.

"I don't know his name." It was a lie, of course. Garrus' name showed up just like everyone else's. He was no different than all of the others who assumed that the sensors that opened doors on the station were just motion activated. I had spent a long time rigging them to track implants and body structure to cross-reference with Omega's Identification System that was used to scan incoming ships.

Jacob didn't look satisfied with the answer. "And why don't I believe that?"

"There _is_ such a thing as a good surprise, Jacob."

"I'll believe that when I see it."

I hesitated. Well, I didn't say that the good surprise was for him. Oh well. I followed the two of them into Afterlife and tried to keep my head down until we passed through to the private room the recruiter was in. He regarded us for a moment, before nodding.

"You three look like you could do some damage. Looking for a good fight?" I tried not to be disappointed that I missed out on the stripper joke they had for female Shepard. I didn't even remember how it went anymore.

"You could say that," Shepard told him vaguely.

"Standard fee is 500 credits. You get paid when the job's done. If you die, your friends don't collect your share. You'll need your own weapons and armor…looks like you've got that covered. And no, this does not make you a member of the Blue Suns, Eclipse, or the Blood Pack. You are a freelancer. Period." Goodness, I missed this game. You know, when it didn't come with the threat of actually getting shot. "Any questions?"

Shepard spoke with him for a bit about the mission details while I kept an eye on the mercs around us. No problems yet. It seemed only Aria was out for my head at the moment. Then Shepard cracked his knuckles intimidatingly. "Where do we go?"

"Just head over to the transport depot outside the club. One of our boys will take you from there. Send in the next one." We were walking out when that kid with the 50-credit pistol showed up. I almost forgot about him.

"Hey is this where I sign up?"

I saw Shepard stiffen. He was so young…but if he went out there, we'd have no choice but to kill him along with the rest. "You look a little young to be freelancing as a merc," he noted.

"I'm old enough. I grew up on Omega. I know how to use a gun." I scowled. It was true that Omega kids were tough, but this wasn't a back alley mugging. This was a trained sniper with an excellent perch.

"So does Archangel," Jacob shot back.

"I can take care of myself," the kid protested. "Besides, I just spent 50 credits on this pistol, and I want to use it!"

Shepard stepped forward then, closing the distance between them and glaring intensely enough to make a geth wet itself. With one hand, he pushed the kid back and with the other, he controlled the armed hand. His voice dipped low. "Get your money back."

"Hey! What're you—"

Shepard grabbed his pistol and smacked it a couple of times, breaking the heat transfer. "Trust me, kid. You'll thank me later." I sighed in relief. That was one less pointless dead body on the bridge. How could I have forgotten that part? It was one of the essential paragon decisions of this mission. But it was done with and I was glad that I got the good Shepard, even if it would make the gun ship harder to destroy.

I kept my eyes open as we proceeded back up the stairs into Omega. Aria wasn't back yet, but Lenny was sitting at the bar talking to Mardus. Damn. I turned my face away and hid behind Jacob, who smirked. "See someone you know?"

I scowled at him. He really didn't like me. I was just some scared criminal to him, and he'd killed hundreds like me. And I had liked Jacob, too. He was nice. A little judgmental, considering the team he played for, and most definitely not trusting, but he was a good guy overall. His condescension was irritating. It made me feel like the bad guy, despite my confidence in my morals. "Yeah, a smart-assed Cerberus terrorist," I growled before I could stop myself. Nice going. Good way to make friends.

"Cerberus has a shady past," he admitted, "but at least they're doing something about the disappearing colonists. What've you done, _Alpha_?"

"Can we discuss this later?" Shepard demanded. "You know, where there are fewer ears?" We shut up as the cab driver came into view. The Commander took charge once again. "We're on the mission."

"I hope you're ready. Archangel's been annihilating you freelancers."

We jumped in the transport, a difficult feat for someone of my short stature, but I managed it with little more than a smirk from Jacob and made myself comfortable. Once I was sure that the driver was focused on the road, I brought up a view of the camera I had looking out over Archangel's bridge. It looked quiet for the moment, the mercs waiting for us to arrive as the last of this batch of freelancers. The Cerberus operative sitting next to me scanned it casually, trying not to draw the attention of our mercenary friend. He at least seemed to appreciate the heads up. I let him study the 3D map with the marked vantage points for a few minutes as well while I pretended to look out the window.

I turned it off, though, the second we began to slow down. Carefully, the driver pulled into a garage on another spire of Omega, setting us down and opening the door.

Salkie appeared in an instant, circling the transport to greet us. "It's about time they sent me someone who looks like they can actually fight. They tell you what we're up against?"

"The recruiter was a little vague," Shepard admitted, taking point once again.

"We wouldn't get many hires if everyone knew the truth. Archangel's holed up in a building at the end of the boulevard over there." They discussed the plan while I looked around more. I hadn't been to these parts since I 'adjusted' the sensors here. It looked pretty much the same, though the poor families that hid here were gone now, replaced by mercs awaiting their chance to go forth and die. An upsetting reality, but inescapable now. Finally, Salkie moved on and we were left alone.

"Well, we might have a way in, but getting out could be interesting," Jacob muttered quietly.

"Let's find him first, then we'll figure out how to get back."


	4. Cold Light of Day

_**Chapter 4: Cold Light of Day**_

"Target is in sight. We're a go. Check. Bravo team—go, go, go!" Jacob and I stepped aside as the other freelancers moved toward the bridge. It was about to begin. I knew that Garrus would recognize us and not kill us, but there was no way Jacob knew that. I wondered if he was nervous about it. "Archangel's got quite a surprise waiting for him," Sergeant Cathka told us with a smirk. "But that means no more waiting for me. Gotta get her back to a hundred percent before Tarek decides he needs her again." Shepard glanced at the table where the flaring tool sat, but he turned away.

Maybe I should do it. Maybe I should kill Cathka. But no. I needed Shepard's trust. I hadn't proven myself just yet. _Sorry, Garrus. Looks like we're in for the long fight._

"Doesn't look like Archangel's got much time," Jacob told us, watching the makeshift team move in.

"No sense standing around, then," I told him solemnly, drawing my pistol.

We dropped down onto the bridge as a kid fired an RPG up into the base. Garrus appeared then, taking out two of the attackers. Shepard merely cracked his knuckles again. "Come on. We'll give these guys a surprise of our own."

I set myself into a solid stance and followed the Mass Effect heroes down the bridge, waiting for them to fire first. We followed them until right before the building before opening up. I did a couple of overloads, but for the most part none of them had good enough equipment for shields worth overloading. At least it opened them up for some of Shepard's adept powers and saved our thermal clips. We went through maybe half a dozen of them before slipping up the stairs. Jacob and Shepard cleared the far room, while I pulled out my much more powerful sniper rifle and covered the guy trying to open the door. At the Commander's signal, I took him out, right behind his helmet. Idiot never looked around to see if he had backup. And he did a shit job with the door too. I had it open in seconds, bypassing the identity scan by adding myself as a new user.

"Archangel?" Shepard called, cautiously entering the room. He motioned for us to wait a moment as he coaxed the final freelancer out of cover with the false hope of silence. And then it was over. A very weary-looking Garrus pushed himself up with his rifle, removed his helmet, and took a seat.

"Shepard," he greeted, getting comfortable. "I thought you were dead."

"Garrus!" He opened his arms in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Just keeping my skills sharp. A little target practice." In real life, the exhaustion and grief in his voice was much more obvious. It made me cringe. What if I was supposed to save his team? No. If I had saved them, Garrus wouldn't have agreed to the mission. My job was to make sure that everything turned out the best way that it could.

"You okay?"

He snapped back, then. At least a ways. "Been better, but it sure is good to see a friendly face. Killing mercs is hard work, especially on my own."

"You nailed me good a couple of times, by the way," Shepard told him, rotating his neck and trying to lighten the mood. He succeeded.

"Concussive rounds only. No harm done. Didn't want the mercs getting suspicious. Besides, you were taking your sweet time. I needed to get you moving."

I moved over to the railing to keep an eye on the bridge while they caught up a bit. Was there really nothing that I could have done about his team? Maybe he would have put one of them in charge….

"That bridge has saved my life, funneling all those witless idiots into scope. But it works both ways. They'll slaughter us if we try to get out that way."

They discussed their plan a little more until I signaled that we had more company. Garrus looked first, then Shepard as I set up a comfortable sniping position of my own. And then it began.

I threw maybe three overloads at them before Garrus, Shepard, and Jacob had taken out the rest of the mechs and they started sending organics. My shots were off a little bit at first—chalk it up to nervous excitement—but once I'd settled into the rhythm I stopped cursing each life I took and settled on surviving when there were so many people out to kill me. It had been particularly hard after the first one, the day I woke up. I'd never felt so sick as I had after killing that Krogan, when a cat nap had me reliving his brains on the elevator floor for the next month. But it was part of survival now—no apologies for winning, as Mordin would say—and I couldn't neglect to do what had to be done, just because I was squeamish.

We stayed up on the top floor until they finally overwhelmed us with numbers and spilled into the living area below. After that, we charged down the stairs and I switched back to the heavy pistol to repel their forces. Shepard and Jacob took cover behind the couches, but I stuck to the stairs where I could see better. Of course, I sacrificed my shields a bit, but I was able to finally make myself useful. Jacob looked up in surprise as I took out the Salarian sneaking up on his left while he reloaded.

I smirked a little in triumph, wasting just enough time being proud of myself to let another Eclipse merc take down my shields all the way. Shepard got him before I took my revenge, making me look like an idiot. Great.

Garrus came over the shared comms then. _"Damn it. They're sending out the heavy mech."_

"That problem should take care of itself," Shepard responded, a smile in his voice. He motioned us up to the nearest set of barricades and let me snipe anything that got past the mechs. It wasn't particularly difficult, that thing was pwning and Garrus wasn't slacking up there either. After the heavy mech went down, I finished off the last few and replaced my thermal clip.

"_Looks like that's all of them. Come find me before they regroup." _Shepard gestured to us and we jogged back around and up the stairs to where Garrus waited. Once again, I took watch over the bridge. "You're kicking ass, Shepard. They barely touched me."

Again, I waited while they talked. Was this where they hit the tunnels? I felt butterflies in my stomach. I was comfortable with this: staying in one place in cover. The constant moving, charging in toward the enemy. That was where I always got killed. I just hadn't had much practice in a stand-up fight. Suddenly, the ground rocked beneath our feet. Damn. Time for the hard part.

"What was that?" Jacob growled, as if he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

Garrus examined his omni-tool for a moment. "Damn it. They've breached the lower level. Well, they had to use their brains eventually. You'd better get down there, Shepard. I'll keep the bridge clear."

"Let's split up, two and two—keep one of my team here."

"You sure? Who knows what you'll find down there."

Shepard nodded firmly and looked to me. "Alpha, stay with Garrus. Keep him alive." I tried not to let out a breath of relief, just double-checked my sniper rifle as he and Jacob jogged back downstairs.

The Turian gave me a suspicious look. "Alpha? And Cerberus? What kinds of friends is Shepard making?"

"Hey!" I protested.

"And I thought Alpha wore some kind of war paint when she ran around as the Shadow Broker."

I punched him. Just in the arm, but he looked surprised. "Not war paint. And _definitely_ not the Shadow Broker. I'm not in this for the profit. I like information. It keeps me alive—and you too, you hypocrite!" I scowled and turned my attention to the bridge. It was quiet for now, but it wouldn't stay that way for long. Just long enough for them to confirm that we'd divided our forces.

Garrus went off after a quick recovery. "I have a feeling your information got me into as many tough spots as it got me out of!"

"Are we still on this?" I demanded. I sighed and grabbed a wet wipe from the medical kit on the shelf next to me, scrubbing my makeup off as we waited. "Have all the feelings you want, Archangel. I protected you and your team…" _Or maybe just you…._

He must have noticed the guilt on my face because he grabbed the front of my shirt in a firm grip. "Did you know about the trap? About Sidonis drawing me away so that my men could get slaughtered?!"

I turned away, trying not to let him see the lie on my face. "I missed it…Mixed up in all the data…. By the time I worked out what had happened, you were already on your way back to them." He seemed to buy it, which made me feel even worse. I finished wiping my makeup off and turned back to the bridge as gunfire broke out below us. "They'll be coming soon. Get yourself ready."

I looked down my scope as the Vorcha appeared, stopping to shoot at us in one long line. _Never again._ I promised, picking them off. _Never again will I sacrifice lives that I could have saved just to be sure things play out the way they did in the game. Let's face it, the game ended horribly and had a lot of tragedies. If I could change that—if I could get this galaxy through in a little better condition—then it would be worth all of the grief in the world. Damn it, why didn't I warn them? Why didn't I save them?_

Garrus took another hit to the shoulder as his shields fell and he took cover while they regenerated. "Get those shutters closed, Shepard," he growled into the comms, right before we heard one seal.

"One down. Two to go. Where the hell are they still getting these numbers from?" I thought back to Mordin's recruitment mission. The Blood Pack should be struggling after the staggering amount of casualties there. But they clearly weren't. They just kept coming.

The second shutter came quickly after that. "Just one more shutter. Hurry!" Garrus ordered, picking off the last of the wave. "There's not too many…yet."

But still, they were just sending out great volumes of Vorcha. If they didn't get us soon, we'd regroup up here. What were they waiting for? Even if they were just supposed to be a distraction, there was no way the Blood Pack would leave the Vorcha in charge of themselves. Someone had to be pulling the strings. Garm. The locked door downstairs.

I turned as I heard the grinding sound, pointing to indicate to Garrus that something was up. He gestured for me to finish up on the bridge while he went to check it out. Luckily, we heard the reassuring thump of the final shutter sealing. One less thing to worry about, then. "Get back here, Shepard. They're coming in through the doors."

I hummed impatiently as I waited for the last Vorcha to come out of hiding. It did only after hearing a Krogan snarl from the other room. I got it and sprinted out to where Garrus was, exchanging the rifle for my heavy pistol. "Get back in cover," I told him impatiently, picking off some of the Vorcha so that Shepard and Jacob could focus their shotguns on the Krogan. "You've taken too many hits already, let us finish them off." He hesitated, of course, but eventually he nodded and moved back into the large room we'd been in before.

It was shortly after that that I regretted sending him away, because Garm was coming. I guess I didn't give the old Krogan enough credit. I figured that he would die the same way that everyone else did if given enough lead (well…not lead…but you know). I was wrong. Despite my shooting him in the face half a dozen times, he still charged forward, up the stairs and right at me. The first shotgun blast took nearly all of my shields. I had to use a shield boost to survive the second.

After the second shot, he went into a blood rage and ignored his gun, seeming to think that a melee attack would be much easier. Big legs pumping, he picked me up and sprinted, obviously hoping to smash me into the wall. Seeing as how the pistol wasn't working, I turned to my trusty looted omni-blade.

It went in a lot easier than the jagged piece of metal I'd used for my first kill. I sliced it back and forth, then up and down, but he was still going when he crushed me against that wall. Was his eye regenerating around the blade?

Thoroughly creeped out, I used my other hand to shove it as deep into his skull as I could possibly manage. One thing was for sure, I wasn't getting it back. Garm roared in pain and rage before he was silenced with another blast of Shepard's shotgun.

I let out a breath of relief and accepted a dose of medigel. More broken ribs. I really should let them heal all the way.

"Only the Blue Suns left. I say we take our chances and fight our way out," Shepard suggested.

"I think you're right. Tarek's got the toughest group, but nothing we haven't faced before. Besides, he won't be expecting us to meet him head on." As soon as the words came out of his mouth, the window at the far end of the room exploded. The gunship. Shit. I gave Garrus a hard shove behind the plant box before diving for cover myself. "Damn it! I thought I took that thing out already. They're offloading troops! Watch your back Shepard!"

Right. We had to go through this first. I tried to remember how to breathe as I focused my shots. I had to stay calm. Ow! Damn. I've got to pay more attention to my shields. I winced and tried not to look at the blood oozing out of my leg. A lot of good I'd do anyone if I got myself killed.

"They're rappelling down the side wall! Ground floor!" the Turian called out. I hesitated as Shepard sprinted around to the hallway. There were just too many on the ground floor. We had to take it to them.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it. Don't go so far, Shepard," I hissed under my breath, pulling out my rifle and providing cover from the top of the stairs. Garrus stayed in the room, sniping from above as well. But it wasn't enough. I had to head down to back them up. I couldn't get the angle from up here. "Sorry, Garrus." I sprinted down the stairs and dove over a couch to shoot at the Batarians hiding under the stairs. Three left. They were hiding, spraying fire as they stayed down behind cover. Jacob had just gotten one with his pull when we heard the machine gun fire from upstairs.

"Garrus!" Shepard called, abandoning cover and sprinting up the stairs. I ground my teeth. Lord, I hoped this turned out like the game. I hoped he survived. Jacob and I finished off the remaining Blue Suns mercs before following the Commander. I tried hitting the gun ship with an overload, but it was too late. The explosive had been launched and Garrus was down.

I had to get that ship down as soon as possible so that we could get him out of here. So I blasted it with bullets until it disappeared. I tried getting him some medigel while I waited for it to come back into sight, but I had no idea if it was helping at all. And then the gunship was at the far end. Another overload and a shield boost so that I could get in a few more rounds. Go down, damn it. Fall. I should have killed Cathka. It started shooting in my direction next—Archangel's direction. If one more of those bullets hit him, he'd be done for. So I put all of my omni-tool's power into the shield boost.

"Shepard, take out that gun ship!" I shouted, lighting it up with my last two thermal clips and making myself a human barricade.

"Jacob, give it all you've got!" The Commander launched a reave and Jacob's thermal ammo tore into it, but that machine gun was tearing my shield to pieces. 50%... 30%... 10%... With a final groan, the ship tilted and disappeared, shaking the ground with the force of its impact and throwing up a pillar of fire to assure us that the merc was dead. Shepard made his way over to the turian, looking down at the dark blue blood that leaked from his body. Please don't be dead. And then he gasped. "Garrus!"

Shepard knelt and immediately gave him another dose of medigel as he instinctively tightened his grip on his rifle. "He's not going to make it," Jacob whispered, inspecting the injuries on his face and neck. Only my memory of the game made me doubt the assessment. He was in such bad shape that it was hard to imagine him lasting more than another few minutes. Still….

I fetched some of the old team's laundry and pressed a few t-shirts to the wounds. Shepard added some pressure and a third dose of medigel. After that, Jacob helped me improvise a stretcher with a bed sheet and a pair of long metal pipes we wrenched out of the walls. Water leaked steadily from these, but we ignored the potential property damage in favor of working quickly and quietly. We tied the shirts in place, moved him onto the stretcher, and took off. Shepard and Jacob carried him while I cleared the way.

.0

I knew it. Miranda had been snooping.

She was careful, though, as expected. Everything was exactly as I had left it in my backpack. Almost. The powder from my makeup had a tendency to get everywhere, but the boxes were clean. Entirely clean. Necessary, since she had smeared her greasy fingers all over them.

"Alpha." I jumped violently, shoving the data boxes back in my bag as if to hide them from the AI. It was EDI…. I had to be careful here not to be too suspicious. "The Illusive Man would like to speak with you."

I allowed a moment's hesitation as I studied the small globe of light along the wall. "Are you the ship's VI?"

"Yes. My name is EDI."

I narrowed my eyes. "And how long did it take you to crack my encryption key?"

"Please be more specific."

I sighed. The difficulty with computers. "How long did it take you to crack the encryption key on the data storage devices in my bag?"

"I have not examined your data storage devices."

"You know, I wasn't aware that VIs were capable of lying." There was a pause as she decided her next course of action. "Does the Commander know that you are an AI?"

"Yes."

I gave her a shrug. "Fair enough, then. And the encryption?"

"23 minutes." I nodded. It was pretty good for a homemade key. Especially considering EDI's processing power. "The Illusive Man would like to speak with you in the Comm Room on Deck 2."

I tried not to look too nervous. The Illusive Man? What did he want with me? It was probably about me being on the Normandy. If I remembered correctly, he didn't like to be on the receiving end of surprises. Like surprise team members. Even Tali had been thoroughly vetted before Shepard received her dossier. "Any idea what he wants to talk about?"

"He did not say." I pursed my lips. _Of course he didn't_. "You should not keep him waiting."

"Right... I'm on my way,"I muttered hesitantly. I locked my bag in my bunk's foot locker and returned to the elevator. Great. Only an hour on the Normandy and I'm already about to get flushed out the airlock. Awesome. I'd been hoping to help Shepard with more than one mission before somebody killed me. It was never a good sign when Cerberus' shady founder wanted a word with you.

I slipped into the elevator, trying not to look overly surprised at seeing Joker there. I loved his character, but I had to play it cool. Especially right before this little job interview. "Hey," he greeted.

"Hello." I gave him a polite little smile.

"You're Alpha, right? Joker. Helmsman."

We shook hands as the elevator began to move and I reminded myself to to be gentle. "Nice to meet you. Odd nickname."

"It's a long story," he mumbled dismissively. "What about yours?"

I shrugged. "Same. We heading out already?"

He seemed to relax when I didn't press the matter. "Yeah, Shepard said he had to take something to Aria and finish his shopping, but that he'd be right back so it won't be long."

I nodded. "Any idea where we're going?"

"Not yet. The Commander will let us know when he's ready." The elevator doors opened and he waved as he limped toward the bridge.

"You okay?" I asked, knowing that he was.

"Fine, but thanks. See you around."

"I'm sure…" I mumbled to myself. This ship had seemed so big when I first saw it and more than big enough in the game, but I couldn't imagine staying in this tiny space for weeks on end. I was going to go nuts. I sighed. One problem at a time.

I worked my way to the Comm Room through the armory where Jacob hung out. He'd left with Shepard, so I knew it would be empty. I wasn't ready to deal with Mordin just yet. When I stood in front of the door, it opened and I heard EDI's voice. "Establishing connection…." The table sunk to the floor, just like I remembered from the cut scenes and I walked into the middle of it. Even the circle of orange was just like the game and I watched it trace up my body, copying me for the projection.

And then it solidified, like some sort of giant, circular television. He was there, the Illusive Man, standing, oddly enough, and smoking, which wasn't odd at all. He must have been watching me appear and, despite the fact that he wasn't really in front of me, I saw recognition in his eyes. Why would the Illusive Man recognize me? "Hello, Alpha."

"Sir," I greeted. If they had said his real name at any point in the games, I didn't remember it.

He paused a moment, studying me, then seemed to come back to himself. "I apologize for my rudeness. I just never thought I'd see that face again. You've added to your look."

My eyes narrowed. Did he mean the paint on my face? Contrary to Loren's initial estimate of a year's worth of showers, the paint had never come off, not even fading. But he was a steady, artful hand—especially for a salarian—and had drawn lines running down my chin and onto my neck. He'd also drawn some branching out from the bridge of my nose, over my eyebrows and up through my temple as well as short, thick ones around my jaw. But if he knew that these lines had been added, then Illusive Man must have seen me before. He must have seen me when I was still in cryo.

"You're the one that sold me to the Blood Pack on Omega," I accused.

"It was nothing personal." He blew out a stream of smoke. "We had just begun an extremely important project."

He was being vague, and he knew it. But I knew the second Mass Effect game. I had been unfrozen right after Shepard had died. "I was one of the assets you liquidated to pay for Shepard's resurrection."

He nodded, tilting his head in a curious manner. "Again, it was nothing personal. Still…I'm amazed that you were able to survive so long. You were put into cryo on May 17th, 2014, long before we had discovered the mass relays and confirmed the existence of aliens. Actually, you were put into cryo about 20 years before humanity was believed to have begun research into cryogenics. Obviously, the history books are mistaken."

"Obviously," I agreed. "But how did _you_ find me?"

He gave a smile, the kind that clearly said he enjoyed having power over the secrets. "Well, I suppose you would want to know what your body was up to for so long." I scowled deeply. He wanted to keep me hanging. "Most of your records were destroyed by the Russians after they conquered the United States and took possession of your pod. They kept your birthday, freeze day, and your condition before you went under. They even gave you a new name, you know. You seem to have become something of an icon to them. They called you Raiza, which means 'rose'."

I didn't know why he saw fit to mention the last part, maybe to distract me from the real question. "But you aren't going to give me my files, are you?"

"No," he admitted, finally settling into his armchair and taking another deep breath off the cigarette, the end glowing bright orange in the darkness. "Those medical records are still valuable to modern science. They imply that even naturally occurring diseases can infect multiple species. Speaking of which, you should see one of the doctors on board to get your immunizations updated. It's been, what, 171 years?"

"I'll do that…" I growled, crossing my arms. I didn't need this nut job telling me how to survive in this world. I'd done well enough, considering where I started. What I needed were those files. He continued to watch me, as if extremely amused by the whole situation.

"I was upset when I first heard that Shepard was bringing on a new team member, but now I'm quite glad he found you." He leaned back then and adopted a dismissive voice. "I will work on getting you identification that will allow you onto Illium and the Citadel, should Shepard allow you shore leave at either of these destinations. I look forward to seeing how you do on this mission…Raiza…."

And then he was gone. The orange circle retreated and I moved off the table so that it could rise back into place. So it was Cerberus all along. They took me off of Earth and sold me to some Krogan gang on Omega…. Anger burned like fire in my throat. I wanted to scream—to jump back onto the table and try to strangle the Illusive Man through the comm link.

But I didn't. With one smothered snarl, I punched the metal wall, the force vibrating back through my wrist and arm to sweep away the tightness in my chest. Okay, I was good. The first two knuckles in my left hand were broken, but I was in control once more. I survived two years on Omega and now I was in a position to help Shepard stop the Collectors. My past would have to wait. I was helping now, and that would have to be enough.


	5. Cold Shoulders

_**Chapter 5: Cold Shoulders**_

_Shepard's POV_

"EDI, is everyone in the tech lab for their physicals with Mordin?" I asked, scanning my messages at my personal workstation. The developing team hadn't exactly had much time to breathe since Omega, but our teamwork had been slightly disjointed at best and I wanted to get in a little mandatory bonding time. Still, there was no telling what would happen if I left them alone for too long. Jacob didn't like Zaeed, Garrus was no fan of either Cerberus operative, and nobody seemed overly fond of Alpha. This was definitely a party that would need a chaperone.

"All team members are present except for Alpha, who refuses to leave the Comm Room."

I frowned. "The Comm Room? Why would she be holed up in there? I thought she was just going to stay in Crew's Quarters?"

"It would seem that her conversation with the Illusive Man did not go well."

"Her _what_?!" I snarled. Damn Cerberus! What were they trying to pull? First they demand that I recruit a bunch of unknowns and then he attempts to intimidate the one person I chose myself? "Get me the Illusive Man."

"He is currently unavailable at this time," she informed me as I stormed through the Armory.

"Now, EDI."

"I am sorry, Shepard. I can send him a message that you'd like to speak with him, but the Illusive Man cannot be reached at present."

I sighed, stopping to lean on a workbench and take a deep breath. I really needed to calm down. It would be extremely hypocritical of me to mandate cooperation between the team members if I couldn't even manage to keep my disagreements with the Illusive Man private. As an Alliance officer, I should know better. "Alright then, EDI. Tell Miranda to keep things civil in the lab until I talk to Alpha."

"Understood, Shepard." Straightening, I turned to the door and headed for the Comm Room.

Alpha certainly didn't look upset as she lay stretched out on the glass tabletop, legs crossed and left arm aglow with her omni-tool. She didn't even take her eyes off of it as she muttered an irritable, "_Not now,_ EDI…."

"Why would you expect an AI to come through the door?"

The blonde immediately rocketed up into a sitting position, reminding me somewhat of the Alliance privates I occasionally encountered. Widened eyes and tense jaws, they always believed themselves to be in trouble. The thought made me smile a bit. "Oh, Sh—Shepard! I thought—well, I turned off all of EDI's interfaces in here so she's been yelling at me from the hallway."

"Incorrect, Shepard. I was merely attempting to relay your orders. There was no intent to be hostile."

I turned to EDI's little spherical hologram on the wall. No doubt she could take back the Comm Room if she wanted, but for some reason she was politely waiting for the human girl's permission. "Don't worry, EDI. I know that you don't yell. Would you just give us a moment of privacy, though?"

"Of course, Shepard. Logging you off."

The door slid closed as I stepped further away from it and Alpha slipped cautiously off of the table. From the expression she bore, it looked like she expected me to attack her. So, in the interest of a peaceful solution, I held up my hands in a surrender gesture. "It's alright. I just heard that you might be upset is all. Did he try and convince you to leave the Normandy?"

She frowned, blue-green eyes scanning my face for hints of deception. She seemed to have been expecting me to say something different, an accusation perhaps. "Actually, he gave me his blessing... Sort of."

"Did he? Can't say I was expecting that." I took a few steps closer to her and leaned against the table, watching as she retreated half a step of her own to give me a wide berth. Her distrust was a bit annoying, but I was patient and waited for her to settle into the conversation on her own. "Well, you must have made quite the impression on the Illusive Man."

"Something like that," she murmured, clearly not wanting to pursue the topic.

"But you don't look pleased about his endorsement."

Slowly, she pushed one hip against the tabletop relaxing slightly, though she made no move to get any closer to me. "I would have stayed on board with or without his approval, though it is a bit of a relief to not have to worry about being spaced in my sleep."

I waited, but she didn't continue. Clearly, the discussion she'd had with the Cerberus boss had unnerved her but she wasn't going to give me any more to go on unless I asked the right question. She must have been born for the information business. My best bet was probably the direct route. "If that's not it, then what's bothering you?"

"I—," she started. Then she looked down and seemed to compose herself. The hardening of her eyes said that I'd lost my opportunity for now. "We had other business, he and I. He sold me out a couple of years ago. But I'll work through it. It's fine. Promise."

"Yeah, he certainly has his fair share of enemies," I agreed. "But right now we have a galaxy to save. And I could sure use your help. Starting with the checkup that Mordin's doing on all of the team members. Please?"

She suddenly seemed to pale and brought her hand to her forehead. "Mordin! Damn…."

I frowned. "What's wrong with the Doctor?"

"Uh…nothing. Could be fun?" She made no attempt to conceal the obvious lie as she strolled past me and out into the hall, releasing control of the room back to EDI. "Coming, Shepard?"

"Yeah, right behind you." Pushing off the table, I prepared for yet another knot of tension in our already strained group. Well, that was the purpose of the whole meeting, I supposed. Still, for a long moment I found myself wishing for my old team. The people I knew and trusted. Even if we were without Kaiden….

.0

_Alpha's POV_

As I stepped into the Tech Lab I tried not to think about the last physical I'd gotten from Mordin. It could only have been genophage work that kept him so distracted two years ago. Now, with that issue on the back burner, he would have energy to dedicate to being properly suspicious of me. And I had disliked the surprise anesthetic the first time.

Not to mention the suspicion thing.

Call me paranoid, but I had no intention of spilling my guts to anyone about anything. Not the cryogenic freezing part, not the tattoos, not the Cerberus owning me thing or the Blood Pact's plan or anything about my life before getting sick. No friends. No family. No anything. Because one clue led to the next and they would all eventually circle back to the question: Why didn't you freak out when you first woke up and saw an alien? They couldn't know about the video game and the further I could keep them from that topic, the better. Thankfully, the Illusive Man hadn't blown my cover just yet.

But Mordin was one smart cookie. If anyone was going to put pieces together, it would be him. Especially since there were probably many hints that lay in my previous exam, what with a high white blood cell count and the effects of cryo on the human body—things I didn't know, but Mordin surely would. My only hope was that he would either forget those details or simply not care.

But most immediately, I really didn't want to be helplessly unconscious in this room.

Being extra wary of the doctor's hands, I moved along the lab bench and settled into the corner beside Zaeed.

"So we're all here then? Good. Dr. Solus, if you could begin the exams please? I need to be sure that everyone is in top fighting form. We'll need to note all injuries and deficiencies and fix them as soon as possible. Mordin may call you in for a physical at any time. If he says you aren't fit, you don't go. That's that. Understood?"

A chorus of, "Yes, Commander," went around the room before Mordin motioned to his first vict—I mean, patient.

"You first, I think, Mr. Taylor." The Salarian tapped the metal top of the workbench, summoning Jacob. He didn't look nervous in the slightest. I suppose it made sense. Alliance soldiers underwent genetic modifications out the wazoo. He had probably spent half his life in a clinic. After waiting for him to lay down, Dr. Solus began to scan him thoroughly.

This, it turned out, was a rather long, boring process and the rest of us spent a good majority of the time glaring at each other. Then Shepard finally got to the real reason we were all crammed into the lab.

"Alright, now I know that you all know me, and most of you have heard of each other, but I'd like to do a round of introductions anyway. I'll start." An impatient groan went through the room at the cheesy good-guy phrasing that Shepard was sticking with, but we all quieted at the firm look he gave us. Cheesy or no, the man was intimidating when he wanted to be. "I am Commander John Shepard of the Alliance Navy. I am N7 special forces qualified and my fighting style is mostly close quarters focusing on the use of a heavy pistol and my biotics. I became a Council Spectre two and a half years ago, shortly before I died. Career highlights include Elysium, Eden Prime, killing the rouge Spectre Saren, and coming back from the dead. If you have any questions about me, feel free to ask now or at any point in the future. I keep an open door policy."

I blanched. That was a really in-depth intro. Nothing like I could give. What was I supposed to tell them? What could I?

I wasn't given much time to think about it, either. After a long moment of silence, Shepard peered into my corner. "Alright then, that's it for me. Why don't you go next, Alpha?"

I began to swear colorfully in my head. "Uh…okay. I'm Alpha. I was an information broker on Omega until you lot trounced in…." I hesitated, trying to think of something—anything—harmless to offer.

Jacob cut in from his position on the table, less to help than to interrogate. "I heard you went by the name 'Casey Reid' while you were on the station."

I narrowed my eyes at the man, who was glaring openly at me. Working my mouth a bit to show my displeasure at his unwarranted aggression, I answered carefully. "I went by a lot of names on the station."

"Is that your real name?" he demanded immediately.

"No."

"Are you going to tell us your real name?"

My face reddened angrily. "Maybe the day you pull your head out of your ass! Seriously, do you want my help or not?"

"That's enough, both of you." We each turned away at Shepard's scolding, though Jacob's response was clear enough. He'd rather face the Collectors on his own than rely on me. "We're all going to be civil about this. We're a team now, we can't go attacking each other. That's what this whole little get together is about. Now, _calmly_, Alpha, what'd you do before you were an information broker?"

I paused a moment before saying, rather vaguely. "I was military for a while."

"You were with the Alliance?" Luckily, I was saved from answering this question. I spent just enough time glaring at Jacob's contempt-filled face to allow Mordin to finish his examination. He handed him a vitamin supplement before shooing him away and motioning to Garrus.

"Aw, come on! I just spent the better part of 6 hours with Dr. Chakwas! Haven't I had enough tests run yet?"

"Dr. Chakwas here to administer medical care. I am here to ensure mission readiness. Not the same things. Need to understand your condition. Please lay down." With a sigh, Garrus complied and I was able to push the intro portion of the evening off onto Zaeed.

Jacob and Garrus were open enough about their history, although Miranda, Zaeed, and Mordin remained tight lipped. And the more that things went on this way, the more frustrated Shepard became. Clearly, we were a poor team with virtually no trust. And then it was my turn for a checkup. Anxious, I jumped up on the table, still keeping an eye on the Salarian's hands.

"Medical records?" he demanded impatiently, as he'd done with Garrus and Zaeed. I hesitated, shifting to my regular omni-tool and transferring my immunization record. It was all that I had from my encounter with Mordin and I hadn't been aware until today that normal people carried their records around on their person. I would have to rectify that. "One document? That's it?" he asked skeptically. I didn't answer, waiting for him to scan all the way to the bottom of the page and notice the physician's name.

There it was.

Dr. Solus' eyes narrowed into suspicious slits as he turned back to meet my gaze. "Thought I recognized you. Should have killed you when I had the chance."

My keen sense of survival, if you hadn't already guessed, relied a great deal more upon flight than fight. And that was what kicked in when I heard the passive threat. At least I managed to remain in the room, though I'd quickly rolled off the bench and put a solid distance between us. "Why? What did I do?" Although Mordin was my main focus, I couldn't help but notice the tense looks that I was getting from every individual in the room.

Suddenly, I began to sweat and my breathing hitched as my adrenaline skyrocketed. I didn't get this. What had I done? I'd been nothing but helpful to everyone here. Sure, I kept my secrets, but everybody had secrets. It was no reason for everyone to hate me! I had been so looking forward to this moment. Six familiar faces in a world of nothing but strangers. But now…I had never been this alone. Not even the day that I woke up. What was even the point of me being here if I wasn't allowed to help? I might as well just….

I pushed the thought away. That had been tried a long time ago. I already knew that I was too much of a coward for suicide.

Mordin lowered his arms a bit, continuing to glare. "Dropped Barra's name right before he disappeared. Number of strange medical conditions... Awfully jumpy for an innocent person."

I set my face, suddenly angry. This wasn't how things were supposed to go! "I spent a good deal of time on Omega. You don't have to do anything wrong to end up dead. Few people know that better than I do." All of those thugs hiding in alleys on my way home, the mercs after free tech from Loren's, homicidal challengers at Lenny's. None of these things were even minutely related to my work as Alpha but they happened all the same. And my own experiences had nothing on the ones that I witnessed in my cameras and sensors.

"You were an information broker," Garrus chipped in, voice full of righteous anger. "You bought and sold people's lives every day."

"Oh really?" I snarled, gaze jumping from face to face. "Really, the rouge cop is going to lecture me on tough choices coming from bad circumstances? Let's forget about the information broker you're all working for, and his pet terrorists. Forget about the assassin masquerading as a bounty hunter, and the geneticist who—." I stopped at Mordin's horrified expression, taking a deep breath to steady myself. I needed control right now. Because if any one of these people decided to end my ranting I wouldn't stand a chance. "Listen, if you want someone who kills for a paycheck, you could look to anybody in this room. I'm done with this little playdate, Shepard. EDI will be able to find me if you need me."

"Alpha." I paused momentarily at the door, glancing back at Dr. Solus reluctantly. He moved out from behind the table to stand a few feet away. "Need to perform evaluation. Please remain still."

I tensed and watched the others, but stayed where I was as the multi-colored beams of light passed over me. Shepard looked about ready to kill the lot of us. Assuming we didn't beat him to it, of course.

"Lungs fully integrated, eyesight corrected, immune system deficiencies rectified. Still require second set of vaccinations. No additional growth, would like to add enhancer. Need to reset bones in hand." Immediately scuttling off, he returned shortly with a set of six syringes. It was all I could do to not shoot them out of his hands. "Don't like needles?" he asked slightly amused.

"Well, if I remember correctly, last time you knocked me out without even the curteousy of a cot."

"Apologies. You were unusual patient. Archaic medical care. Much to do. No anesthetic required this time." If I didn't know better, I'd say that he was cracking a joke. "Hand please." Without waiting for me to present the fist I'd smashed into the Comm Room wall, he snatched it from my side and tugged on both fingers. I gasped and tried to pull it away, but he held it firmly until he was finished and wrapped it tightly before giving it back. "Will send updated records and have growth enhancer ready by dinner. Free to go."

I nodded and backed slowly out of the room, allowing the door to slide shut before taking a long, deep breath. Okay, so Mordin was at least being civil now. But I may have lost Shepard's endorsement, stirring up all that drama. It wasn't my fault, I wasn't the antagonist in those tense discussions, but that didn't mean that my presence here was great for morale.

Hoping against hope that Shepard wasn't going to drop me from the team, I tried to refocus. These medical tests had got me thinking. If I wanted Thane to survive the third game, I needed to get started on Kepral's Syndrome. And the only doctor I knew besides Mordin, was Barra. Perhaps it was time to give my old friend a call….

.0

"Ready ladies?" I nodded to Shepard. "Cerberus has paid for her freedom already, but you should be ready to fight if Jack lives up to her reputation."

"Right," I told him. This was where the good surprises ended for us. Miranda and I followed him through the airlock and along a perforated metal walkway to where three armed guards stood watch in their Blue Suns uniforms. _Here we go._

"Welcome to the Purgatory, Shepard. Your package is being prepped and you can claim it shortly. As this is a high security vessel, you'll need to relinquish your weapons before we proceed."

I knew that Shepard would never leave us unarmed, but my fingers twitched toward my heavy pistol all the same. "I can't do that."

A Turian strolled up in the middle of our conversation. The warden. Bastard. "Everyone stand down. Commander, I'm Warden Kuril, and this is my ship. Your weapons will be returned on the way out. You must realize that this is just a standard procedure."

"It's my standard procedure to keep my gun."

He had a minor stare-down with the Commander, calculating how many of the guards he could drop before falling into the trap he was setting. Not enough, obviously. "Let them proceed. Our facility is more than secure enough to handle three armed guests. We're bringing Jack out of cryo…."

There was more after that, but I didn't remember what it was. All I could think about was being bought, sold, and traded like some sort of lava lamp to the Russians, Cerberus, and the Blood Pack. I'd never thought about it, but it was exactly what was happening with Jack. Cerberus had purchased her while she stayed frozen. It was unsettling.

"Let's go," Shepard said firmly, snapping me out of my thoughts.

We followed the Warden through a series of doors and hallways. "Cellblock Two. As you can see, we keep a tight control over the population. Each prisoner's cell is a self-contained modular unit. I've blown a few out the airlock as an example." Watching the machine work in the game was one thing, but seeing the huge claws in real life, grabbing the capsule-like rooms and yanking them out of wall, that was another thing. They were very big and very formidable, though the prisoners didn't even bat an eye anymore. "The ship is made up of 30 cell blocks identical to this one—we house thousands of criminals. We can put the whole place in lockdown on a moment's notice. Nothing goes wrong here." _Until today._

"Let's get on with this," Shepard suggested. The Warden nodded and turned to lead us further into the cell block.

"Any escape attempts?" Miranda asked casually as we walked.

He gave her a glare of contempt. "We're in space—they have nowhere to go and they know it. But still, we exercise extreme caution. These are dangerous individuals. I'm going to confirm that the funds from Cerberus cleared. Outprocessing is straight down this hallway. Just keep going past the interrogation rooms and the supermax wing. I'll catch up with you later…Shepard."

We proceeded, stopping the 'interrogation' and speaking with the creeper in the next cell, Prisoner 780. He noticed me glaring at him and cut the crap, focusing solely on making his pleas to Shepard. He was just lonely, I'm sure, having nobody to really talk to, but I remembered the email that he sent Shepard after the escape. He talked a lot, more than I remember, and the Commander let him. It was nothing to me but I wanted to get to Jack. She was still there, in cryo, and we were here, entertaining this nutjob. But we finally got going, proceeding through two more doors.

"Outprocessing is through the door on the far side of the room," the technician said, barely looking up from his monitor. It made my skin crawl. And we were heading for the door. It opened slowly and I saw Shepard hesitate as it revealed only a small room, one that looked eerily like the cells the other prisoners lived in. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the technician flee.

The Warden's voice came over the loudspeaker. "My apologies, Shepard. You're more valuable as a prisoner than a customer. Drop your weapons and proceed into this open cell. You will not be harmed." I scowled and drew my heavy pistol, moving away from the cell. He didn't want me, I knew, but I would be no help if I needed saving too.

"You talked up your noble intentions with this prison. But it turns out you're a criminal like the rest," he growled.

"Activate Systems!" Blue Suns began pouring into the room—much faster and more numerous than the four or five that shambled in while I played the game. Then again, I played on normal, not a more difficult combat level. And I died enough as it was. Shepard was fast enough to get to cover, but Miranda took three hits straight off the bat and was forced backward.

I grabbed her arm and dragged her clear of the cell, though I felt the concussion of the shot she took while I had a hold of her. I did not want to get hit with one of those. She nodded her thanks after a quick recovery and set about warping the crap out of the enemies flooding the far side of the room. I tried to overload their shields for her, but she was pissed and not inclined to wait for my help. Poor bastards didn't even stand a chance.

"Move up!" Shepard ordered during a lull in enemy combatants. I sprinted up to the nearest set of tables. I had to sacrifice some of my shields to do it and it was awfully painful, but my pistol was of much more use closer up. Besides, Miranda bested them pretty quickly, though I had a close call with one of the 'dogs'. "We need to get Jack from cryo," the Commander ordered, leading the way into the hallway and to the left.

There were a couple of Legionnaires with decent shields that us girls took care of, but for the most part Shepard was showing off his skills as an adept, pulling and charging one trooper after another. We were just there to provide a little covering fire. We were just about to break through the next door, when we heard a voice over the speakers.

"Shepard is on the loose! Repeat! Shepard is on the loose! Get people down here!" The technician sending the warning in the next room didn't last long with only his pistol. We moved up to the controls.

"Shepard," Miranda warned in a low voice. "If you hack that control panel, then every other door on the cellblock opens."

"It's the only way to get Jack out of stasis. I'm doing it. Be ready."

I watched through the window as the large claw arm came out and the three heavy mechs below readied themselves. It pulled the compartment up, revealing a woman covered in tattoos, secured to the backbone of the cell with metal restraints. When she woke up, I could see the confusion and the fear in her eyes, wondering where she was, when she was, and why she was strapped down. I could tell she was still shaking off the residual paralysis, but no doubt the three mechs sped that up. She wrenched the restraints open and shook her head, trying to clear the fog. She was still confused, but things were coming back—rushing—just like they did to me. And then she charged.

The rocking of the entire cellblock brought me back to myself. "Alpha?" I jumped at Shepard's hand on my shoulder. "You okay?"

"Fine. We have to get down there," I told him, sprinting to the door and overriding the lock. We went down the ramp and found total devastation. The three destroyed mechs, the hole in the wall, it was all exactly the same. Miranda swore quietly. Even she didn't have this power and she was perfect!

As we picked our way along, Shepard pushing me back into place behind him, warnings came over the station comms. There was the Warden screaming about not killing Jack and the automated voice from the station's VI reporting no survivors in certain sectors.

When we came upon the first room, one of the large claws fell off of its stand and to the floor with a reverberating, sickening crash that went through my entire body. Good Lord, if Jack was capable of this after having just woken up from cryosleep…I really shouldn't piss her off. No time to think about that now, though. Prisoners, guards, and automated systems were firing at anything that moved and between the violent prisoners and the mercs it was us against the world.

And then, through the sounds of the alarms, the shouting, and the shooting, came the sound of heavy footfalls. That's right. I almost forgot.

"Heavy Mech!"

"Miranda! Alpha! Overload!" I shot my tech attack as I sprinted over the bridge, where there was very little cover. I managed to draw a lot of fire, allowing Miranda her turn and giving Shepard an opening for a biotics attack against the last remaining guards. Sadly, the little crates I dove behind weren't as reliable as they were in the game. The gun on that heavy mech was tearing into it, pushing it ever so slightly back across the floor. I had to get that thing out of commission now. Luckily, the shields were down and the other two were ripping into it with their pistol and submachine gun respectively. When my omnitool was recovered enough for an incinerate blast I leaned out from behind my heavily damaged crate and took my shot.

Luckily, I was on target. Not so luckily, so was the mech. It quickly shifted its fire and I felt my shields buck harshly, tossing me back on my butt. And then it stopped. Shepard's reave must have taken care of it. He and Miranda crossed the bridge, the tall woman pulling me silently to my feet. I thought for a minute that they would be mad at me for being so stupid as to get so definitively pinned down here, but that look that she gave me…. Was that maybe a bit of respect?

"You alright, Alpha? We need to get going."

"Fine, Shepard. Let's hurry. We have a lot of catching up to do." We crossed the room, quickly searching a few of the bodies, before going through a door, around a corner, and into a room very similar to the one we'd just left. Guards greeted us, but they fell quickly. There was also another heavy, but with plenty of cover and Shepard its main focus this time, I didn't have to do anything risky. Miranda and I took it out with relative ease.

Sneaking a bit of ammo, we continued. Through another door, around another corner. I tried to check on our distance from the docking bay by hacking into the over-tasked VI, but station blueprints showed one more room yet. Another room…but I thought that there were only two? Oh right. The warden.

He stood atop a platform, shooting everything in the room. Clever bastard had already linked his shields into the disciplinary generators throughout the room. We took cover.

"You're valuable, Shepard. I could've sold you and lived like a king. But you're too much work. At least I can recapture Jack."

"Not happening!" the Spectre called back, "You're a two-bit slave trader and I don't have time for it."

The warden shook his head, a little angry. "I do the things civil governments are unwilling to! This is for the good of the galaxy!"

The shooting started again, signaling the end of the conversation. "Shepard, we can't touch him until we take out those shield generators! He's linked them into his suit!" I called over the noise.

He nodded. "Do it!"

I blinked a little in surprise. I didn't mean…by myself! I said _we_!

But this was not the time to question orders. So I let him and Miranda lay down covering fire and shot an incinerate blast into one generator, causing it to fail before taking off over the bridge. I could feel shots contacting my shields, but if I second-guessed them having my back then Shepard was going to eat me alive. Especially with my unintentional sabotage of unit cohesion back on the Normandy. A few rounds of my pistol had the second down. Here's the hard part.

By the time I got the folding barricades up and ran into heavier resistance, Shepard and Miranda had caught up. Cover was pretty narrow, but if I wanted the angle on the generator around the corner I had to move up. Miranda went with me, giving the Blue Suns something else to think about. I signaled to Shepard to be ready for the warden and took another shot with incinerate.

The rest of the fight didn't last long. The remaining four guards fell easily enough and Shepard took out Kuril without issue and with much prejudice. And then we were running. I was starting to think that the station would lose life support before we managed to claw our way out, but then we finally spotted Jack. She was in a tunnel overhead and through the glass we could make out a flash of blue and flying bodies.

"There she is! Let's move!" Shepard growled, taking off for the stairs. Thank the Lord. It was almost over! At last….

By the time we reached the walkway Jack had spotted the ship and was in the process of losing her cool, oblivious to the trooper sneaking up on her right. The guy was terrified, a lone guard up against the psychotic biotic. But the Commander put him out of his misery. This didn't seem to put Jack at ease, but she held off on attacking us for now, confused.

"What the hell do you want?"

"You're in a bad situation and I'm going to get you out of here." I tried to remain serious and supportive while simultaneously cursing the Bioware script writers. Or had they just been writing it down as Shepard was going to say it?

Jack was of the same mind, pacing anxiously. "Shit, you sound like a pussy. I'm not going anywhere with you. You're Cerberus."

"I'm here to ask for your help," he insisted.

"You show up in a Cerberus frigate to take me away somewhere. You think I'm stupid?"

Shepard seemed to grow impatient at this. He was probably tired of trying to overcome Cerberus' reputation. "This ship is going down in flames. We can get you to safety, and we're _asking_ for your help."

"We could just knock her out," Miranda suggested unhelpfully.

"I'd like to see you try." For some reason she seemed to relax at the threat, as if she were back on familiar ground.

"We're not going to attack her," Shepard growled in warning. Maybe I wasn't the only one compromising teamwork.

"Good move. Look, you want me to come with you, make it worth my while." She stepped forward, ready to negotiate. Shepard followed suit.

"Join my team and I'll do what I can for you."

Her eyes narrowed. "Don't make promises you can't keep. I bet your ship's got lots of Cerberus databases. I want to look at those files. See what Cerberus has got on me. You want me on your team, let me go through those databases."

"I'll give you full access."

"You better be straight up with me," she snarled. I gripped my pistol a little harder, causing her eyes to flick my way. Damn. But Shepard must have caught it too and motioned for me to back off. I had to put conscious effort into relaxing but I managed it. "So why the hell are we standing here?"

"Move out."

.0

I steered clear of the Comm Room during Jack's little welcoming party, but I managed to get some cameras into engineering before it was over. It would take some monitoring, but whatever the biotic was going to find in Cerberus' files, I should be able to see too.

I also got a response from Barra. He didn't seem to really trust me but I gave him an impressive budget from my sales profits and did about 10 hours of research to get him started. Everything on the extranet relating to symptoms, victims, research, and treatment went to him. It was a massive amount of information, but he was a Salarian and could probably wade through it fairly easily.

He asked a lot of questions and I was as forthcoming as I could be, but he was still unsure. He informed me that this would be a part time gig, what with his current job in a Synthetic Insights lab, but at least it was something. I also set about monitoring chatter on his family, just to make sure that they were safe. However, all I had on Sur'Kesh was the extranet. It would be difficult, but I'd do what I could.

Now I really had a lot on my plate. I found a little corner of the cargo hold to hole up in as I went through all of my data, trying to compile it all. In the end, I had to transfer it all into my third data storage device and down several aspirin to ward away the coming migraine.

That was when the call came. EDI's voice announced over the comms that we were heading for Horizon. Shit. Better get some sleep then. If Shepard chose me for this one, I'd have another long day ahead of me.


	6. Cold Fish

_**Chapter 6: Cold Fish**_

_Kelly's POV_

I glanced at the cameras nervously as Shepard, Mordin, and Zaeed began to take fire from the Collectors. It was nothing new to them and they'd be facing the danger of these kinds of shootouts a lot over the course of this mission, I knew, but in a way that just made the whole situation more sad. It was awful what they were forced to do, really, but there was nothing for it. Somebody had to. And if there was a better representative for humanity than Shepard, I'd love to meet him.

"The Commander will get them out of there, Kelly. Just you wait," Gabby told me softly. She placed a comforting hand on my shoulder and guided me gently out of the room. It was odd, the psychologist of the crew receiving sympathies, but I allowed it and just smiled gratefully.

"I know, I just feel so useless right now. I guess I'll go try to catch up on paperwork. See if I can accomplish something today." Making my way back to my workstation in the CIC, a task list began to form. I was still in the process of creating a mental baseline for crew members—Jack being my most recent and least pleasant encounter—but I still needed to spend a little time with Zaeed and Alpha. Also, in the wake of this face-to-face encounter with the Collectors, I'd need to reevaluate everyone's state of mind. Gabby waved me off with a tense smile before returning her attention to the holoscreens that followed Shepard's progress. Yes, I'd definitely be filling out a lot of reports in these next few days.

But not right now. As I stood before my computer, I realized that I was maybe pushing myself too hard. Yes, the crew deserved my full attention, but I'd be no good to them if I burnt myself out. Besides, huddling over a few bits of paperwork while our Commander was out getting shot at would push me over the edge. I needed something else to do. Zaeed was gone, but I could go speak with Alpha for a while. The information broker could probably use a friendly face anyway.

"EDI, where is Alpha?"

"Team member Alpha is currently in the cargo hold," the AI responded immediately. "Would you like me to relay a message?"

"No thank you, EDI. I'd prefer to speak with her in person."

"Logging you off."

She disappeared and I found my way into the elevator, punching the button for Deck 5. The blonde wasn't really supposed to be down there, the hold was for logistics personnel and the team used it only to board or unload from the shuttle, but I wasn't inclined to say anything. She seemed a very private person, from what I'd heard, and I highly doubted that the crew's quarters would be quiet enough for her. At least, that was my theory until the elevator doors opened.

Perhaps she didn't put as much stock in 'quiet' as I'd first thought. To say that she was busy was an understatement. She was hardly visible behind the holoscreens that almost completely enclosed her. Muttering quietly to herself, she set about examining them, often jumping several feet across the way to check something before sliding back. There were live vids of the fight as well as about two dozen screenshots scattered haphazardly through the air, each with half written notes typed up beside them.

Curious, I sat down and examined them for a while. The notes appeared to be observations about the similarities and differences between each Collector type, as well as a looping video of one being controlled by the creature calling itself 'Harbinger.' Trying to keep the surprise from my voice, I spoke.

"You're a xenobiologist?"

Alpha didn't even give me a glance, though her face contorted briefly in irritation at my interruption. "I don't have a degree or anything, if that's what you're asking. It just interests me. Besides, there is virtually no information on the Collectors at all, save for minor notes about their technology and interests. Nobody has even _tried_ to classify them and I hate unknowns."

"But you knew they were behind everything when you were on Omega. Miranda says you knew about our mission. Why didn't you study them before?" I pointed out.

She seemed frustrated by my questions and paused long enough to look directly at me to answer. "I knew what you believed about your mission. But this is different. This is tangible."

Again, she began to dismiss me so I tried to pull her back with a small joke. "You sound like you'd make a good Collector yourself, one day, Alpha."

She cracked a small smile at me, but I could tell that she really wanted me to leave. "Look, it's not that I don't appreciate you doing your job and all that, but I'm a little busy. Can this wait?"

"You should get a VI to help you sort all of this. Maybe EDI can download one for you."

"Maybe later." We stopped talking after that. Between her short, clipped sentences and busy hands she wasn't really giving our conversation proper attention anyway. But watching her work proved enlightening. She didn't have a whole lot to go off of, just video and the team's armor monitors, but it was still almost more information than she could handle. She was typing up physical descriptions and assembling statistics on biotic and weapons power levels. Every now and then she would call out something like: "EDI, make a note that Zaeed needs to have his shield generator examined. It's damaged," or "Tell Shepard that the Harbinger can only possess one soldier at a time, so kill everything else and you'll only have to fight it once."

Overall, I determined that Alpha was less connected than she was simply resourceful. She didn't need a lot of data to crunch to make a determination, she simply made the very most of what she had. Patterns and tendencies were her niche. It's what made her such a successful information broker.

But there was one thing that worried me. When the Praetorian appeared, she didn't even bat an eye. There was no concern there for the team's welfare, only more data to sort. It was almost inhuman. Detachment wasn't unheard of on Omega, of course, but I wasn't sure that this crew could handle another sociopath.

.0

_Alpha's POV_

I spent probably ten hours in the cargo hold accumulating data on the Collectors. I noted everything I could about them, their appearance, their abilities, their weapons, and their organization. I named the variations as best as I could remember and highlighted oddities like the drones' natural inability to use biotics normally, but their appearance after Harbinger's takeover—which demonstrated more than just a neural link between the two. By the time I had the information sorted enough to pass to the ship's AI, I was exhausted and starving.

"I can't do that again, EDI. I'm taking Kelly's advice. Can you download a VI for me?" I asked, sprawled out on the metal floor.

"Certainly, Alpha. I will begin after I finish uploading the data that you have provided to Cerberus channels."

"Thanks. You're the only one here with a good enough connection for that. And is Gardner still in the mess?"

"No." The deep male voice that answered was decidedly not EDI's and I sat up quickly to glare at the elevator. Jacob stood there, a plate in his hand, looking about as happy to see me as I was to see him—which was to say, not at all. "He's not there anymore, but he wanted you to get fed anyway. He sent me."

"Sent you?" I demanded suspiciously.

"Yeah. You got a problem with that?"

Jacob made no move to deliver the plate, just stood in the elevator glaring. I sighed. Clearly, I was going to have to be the bigger person here. So, standing, I moved forward to take the food. He regarded me with obvious disgust, but honestly I was too tired to care and mumbled a quick, "Thank you." He grunted in answer but said nothing as I found a crate to perch on and eat the mystery meat goop that Gardner had provided. Yeah, this brought back memories. MREs, by the way, are excellent if you're hungry enough.

And then, to my surprise, Jacob spoke. "I don't get it."

"Get what?" I asked, trying not to dribble food down my chin in an unladylike fashion.

He folded his arms and took his first two steps into the cargo bay. "I don't get how you could just sell people's deepest darkest secrets for money! Do you have any idea what you do to people?"

"Do you?" He narrowed his eyes at my response and I fiddled with my fork as I searched for the right words. "I know that you don't understand why I became an information broker. Why would you? You're strong. You have a powerful body with well-trained reflexes and an unshakable will. You're confident in your abilities and you have every right to be. I'm not you, Jacob."

His face softened a fraction, though he did his best to maintain the strong visage.

"I'm tiny and paranoid. I make a better victim than hero. I mean, look at this! Who would take this seriously? If I want to survive—to make any sort of difference—I need more than a good right hook. I need to know who my enemies are, down to their core. I need to know where they are, why they're after me, and exactly how much damage they can do. I didn't get started in this line of work to make money. I got started because I was afraid that the next mugger might be the one that got me."

There was a bit of empathy on his face, but he determinedly held to his healthy skepticism. "And you don't regret selling people out to protect yourself?"

I couldn't help but smile around my most recent bite. "Give me a little credit, Mr. Taylor. I have standards. I don't hand out my information to just anyone."

He raised a brow but otherwise didn't respond. I'm not sure if I won him over or anything, but I at least got him on his heels, which was much better than us at each others' throats. After finishing my plate, he took it and disappeared, lingering only long enough to hear my plea to read the Collector report.

.0

Why didn't he know my name?

I fiddled with the string of my dogtags and watched the mass relay rapidly disappear from view. The Illusive Man had my frozen body for how long? I was wearing a shirt that said 'Army.' I hadn't even made a particular effort to conceal the metal beading. Surely he knew that he could find my real name by looking at them. Surely they all knew.

But there had been not one attempt to steal or even just read the tags that had been around my neck since well before I died. I even double checked that Shepard had his. They were the same. Well, the ID number was a different structure, obviously, but the name, blood type, and religious affiliation were identical. Even the font hadn't changed, after 170 years. He could have checked at any time—even while I was still in stasis! And the Illusive Man wasn't one to make sloppy mistakes.

"Ever been to the Citadel before, Alpha?"

I blinked back to the present and gave Joker a little smile. "No, but I hear that it's amazing."

"Oh it is. But you'll see. She'll be coming into view in just a minute here." He pointed through the window and out into deep space at a glowing white mark that had initially looked like just a very bright star.

"Is that it?" He didn't answer, just smiled even wider and brought us in. Now, I've played the games enough to know that the Citadel is enormous, but there was nothing quite like seeing it in person. We drew up to the ends of the ward arms and I suddenly had the thought that we were about as significant as a flea in a football stadium. There were really no words to describe it. You probably could've put the whole population of Earth on the station.

"Citadel Control, this is the SR2 Normandy requesting permission to dock."

"Understood Normandy. You have clearance to proceed to Dock 452. Transferring you to an Alliance Controller." I did my best to stay out of the way as the pilot's hands flew over the control panel with a deft, practiced touch, but in my urge to press my face to the glass I couldn't guarantee that I hadn't hindered him. All the same, he guided us into the dock easily.

"Commander, we're docked and there's a shuttle waiting for you." He called over the comms, receiving a fuzzy _'Roger that'_ in response. After a bit more button-pushing, Joker finally slouched in his chair. "So, where you going on your shore leave?"

I laughed a little. "I don't know, we have a whole three hours. I was thinking a bit of work—"

"Work? You can't work on shore leave!" he protested. But I ignored him.

"—and some real food. Maybe some shopping. What about you? Where are you headed?"

He sighed dramatically, but let the subject drop. "Well, since Sovereign's attack I hear the wards are in pretty poor shape. Flux and Chora's Den are gone, but they're supposed to have a new club: the Dark Star Lounge, or something. Might check it out."

"Maybe I'll stop by," I told him, trying to be social. "But you gotta buy me a drink. It's my birthday, after all."

He blinked in surprise. "Today's your birthday? Well, then, we'd damn well better party it up. No fun to be had on the Normandy, what with her being sick and all."

I raised a brow. "The ship is sick?"

"Yeah, it's got this obnoxious tumor that floats around trying to do my job." I loosed a laugh at that, though it merely made him pout. I'd almost forgotten that 'ship cancer' reference. "It's not funny. This thing is all up in my business. All I hear is: 'Mr. Moreau, your report is 43 seconds late,' 'Mr. Moreau, food is not permitted in the cockpit'."

I simply laughed harder. By the time I got myself under control, the flight officer was thoroughly unamused. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. Now come on, Shepard's giving a briefing for shore leave out on the docks."

We proceeded out of the airlock after a mob of day shifters, who would be granted first crack at shore leave before they had to be back at their stations. Shepard, Garrus, and Jack were already waiting. Luckily, the Commander was quick. Don't commit crimes and beverage limit is two. Shepard is the emergency contact. Try to stick together as much as possible and be back on the Normandy, ready for your shift, in exactly three hours. After that, we pretty much splintered. Joker took off with a few crew members I didn't recognize, Shepard disappeared with his two companions in the shuttle, and I was left all alone.

Heavens, it felt good to be off of the ship! I took a deep breath and gazed up at the big, open sky to banish my claustrophobia. And what a view! The wards above and below and the Presidium glimmering in the distance. Time for a little R&amp;R.

"EDI, is my identity ready? Probably should have checked sooner."

"Yes, Alpha. The Illusive Man has registered you under the name: Raiza Kalashnikov."

I smiled. "Good old AK reference, though I'm more of an M16 girl myself. And why is he so obsessed with the name Raiza? He knows that it's not real, right?"

"I believe that he is aware that it is not your original given name. However, he seems to have developed a great deal of curiosity about your time spent with the Russians."

"That makes two of us," I sighed. "Raiza: the name thrust upon me by two generations of slave traders. I shall treasure it always." EDI didn't respond to the comment and I wandered down toward the scanner, tucking my hands behind my head. "VI, prepare Citadel Dock Scanner virus."

"Virus loaded and ready for transmission. Warning: must be within three feet of target platform."

"Set to function one."

"Function one, set."

Damn, Kelly was right on the money. This VI made my life so much easier. I didn't have to track down data anymore, just call for and analyze it. I already had the thing monitoring the extranet for sightings of the Collectors and mentions of the crew's names. And she had helped me wade through three hours of work on sleep traffic—data collected while I was in bed—in just 20 minutes. I could totally get used to this, even if it did take me a full day to scan through her programming script for Cerberus foul play. Now I just needed to name her.

I entered the scanning area then and waited patiently in the mob of tourists as an exhausted-looking human C-Sec officer watched our little parade. When I strolled right past his console and pressed my function one button, he took no notice and my simple virus was easily uploaded. It wasn't much, just a data copy that would get transferred directly to my omni-tool. Nothing that the scanner VI would notice, since the C-Sec Officer platform itself was all manual. I stepped aside after entering Zakera Ward and pretended to check messages while waiting for the next group to get scanned. To my delight, the data came through instantly. Perfect.

"VI, create file: Citadel. Open file. Create file: Dock Scanner. Sort all incoming data from Citadel Dock Scanner Virus into this file."

I smiled as the work did itself and discreetly pulled out two audio/visual bugs to plant right beside Bailey's C-Sec desk while he was talking to Shepard. If Jack noticed me, she didn't say anything, just glared me away. Now just to sort the info, which was practically effortless now. I made up my mind to finish work in my first hour on the station. I should get the transit terminals, some of the homeless shelters, that shady warehouse section, and the clinic on level 19. These areas would be nice and quick and then I could lock down the lounge when I went to meet Joker.

Odd as it may seem, I felt safe on the Citadel. Which was strange considering that I couldn't carry weapons unless I was with Shepard, I wasn't even close to having this place properly monitored, and the station was much more crowded than Omega had been. It was just the busy, self-absorbed aura of the place. Everyone had somewhere to be, some problem to solve, and no time to waste on a little blonde tourist. It set me almost at ease, a welcome break from the hostile environment that was Omega and the Normandy.

Perhaps that was why he'd had it so easy.

I was just finishing up buying more makeup to replace my depleted stores when he showed up.

"Have a nice day!" the Asari had called with a huge, genuine smile. And then that cold steel on my lower back, right along my spine.

"_No reaction_," a deep voice hissed in my ear. A deep, familiar voice. A sinister intent rolled off of him in waves. "_Just keep smiling_. There you are sweetheart! I thought I'd lost you!" A hand on my shoulder spun me firmly around and I came face to face with Billy.

Damn.

My eyes jumped first over his plain black and grey attire, then to the store clerk who was already busy with another customer, then to the three C-Sec officers who were moving to the far side of the building to investigate an anxious little crowd. I wonder who could have caused that.

"I thought I recognized you, but you look different without those lines on your face," he told me in a low voice. A sick grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. "Now, little lady, you're going to come with me and you're going to do it quietly or I'll gut you."

"Aren't you going to do that anyway?" I asked, trying to stay calm. Of course. I remembered the message that Shepard received about him carving the Commander's name into his next victim, but nothing had ever come of it in the game. I hadn't been expecting this. How stupid was I? What had I done? Think, you fool. You've always found a way! "Seriously," I challenged, trying to sound more sure of myself than I was. "What are you going to do if I don't cooperate? I could get a quicker death here than what you have planned for elsewhere."

But Billy merely smirked. "Maybe it won't change your fate, but what about your little friends? The others who got off the Normandy? You either come with me, or I kill you and then go after them."

I felt my skin suddenly go cold all over. No. Not Joker. Not Gabby and Ken and Kelly…. They would be put through a trying experience soon enough.

But there was another voice in my head. It was screaming from somewhere in the back of my mind, getting louder. _What about me?_ The selfishness of the words hit me almost as hard as my desperation to hear them. _What about me? Hadn't I suffered enough too?_ I didn't have any real weapons, but what if I tased him? He might get a shot off, but not an accurate one. I could take one shot and run, I had medigel. I could push this whole business off on C-Sec. I could disappear and somebody else could clean up after the sicko. The Normandy crew would be missed, and anyone who may get hit by the convulsing madman's flailing pistol. But I mattered too. I knew the whole story. I could save the galaxy. Surely there were other, more expendable people.

"Drop your omni-tool. Do it now."

I could get away with it. It made sense. I wasn't going to be another name on his list. I wasn't going to be another victim. After all, if you weren't a player, you were a pawn. I deserved to be the one to get out alive. I deserved…

I deserved nothing.

The adrenaline that had been building up in me, preparing my body to run, suddenly made me cold from the inside out. Slowly, I slipped my omni-tool off, more to take the option away from myself than to appease Billy. If he could tell, he didn't say anything, just grinned even wider and scooped the device hastily off the ground. "That's a good girl."

What the hell was I thinking? I didn't even belong here. I was nothing to this world. Those characters aboard the Normandy were the only ones that mattered right now. They were the ones who saved everything, not me. How dare I even think about betraying them?

"Get to the transport terminal, and no funny business."

_Funny business. How the hell did that phrase survive a century and a half?_

The thought brought me back, grounded me somehow. The crew _did_ matter. And I had to protect them. I couldn't allow Billy to go after them once he'd killed me. Idiot. I should have tased him, taken his pistol, and ended it while I had the chance. This bastard couldn't be left to wander once I'd been bled.

Wait…

My eyes narrowed slightly as my brain got back on track, though I tried my best to maintain a panicked face as I climbed in the skycar. Billy shouldn't have known we were here. We only arrived 45 minutes ago. That was too fast. He had friends in high places if they could notify him of the Normandy's arrival so quickly. Friends in the Citadel's Traffic Control. Or maybe the shuttle service?

Billy was careful not to let me see where we were headed on the control panel and I wasn't familiar enough with the station to guess by our trajectory, but the fare for the cab was substantial, so I guessed we were probably heading to the very tips of the wards and off of Zakera.

I had to get a signal out, maybe from the cab terminal when we got out. If I was subtle enough I could do a quick hacking and tell EDI to get everyone back onto the Normandy. But if Billy's informant really did have something to do with the cabs then I would just tip him off. I had to find out who his friends were and if there was any chance they may be going after the crew already. But how? Sure I was an information broker, but I rarely got my tidbits face to face.

I had to lead him in first. "You're that prisoner from Purgatory, the one Shepard was talking to."

From the grin on his face, I'd say the psychotic son of a bitch was more than willing to carry on a conversation, so long as I flashed him a look of terror every now and then to assure him that he was in control. "Yes, _Alpha_. I am Prisoner 780. But you can just call me Billy." I managed to alter my shiver of disgust into a fearful cringe as he leaned forward from the back seat to whisper in my ear like a complete creeper. The action seemed to give him a great deal of satisfaction, and he continued. "I should probably thank you for freeing me, but you took a couple of shots at me. I didn't appreciate that. You don't get to hurt me. Nobody does. Not anymore."

So he knew that I was Alpha. Traffic Control would have identified me on the roster as Raiza. That meant that he was either on Omega sometime in the last year and a half, or his friends had made the connection themselves. I doubted that anyone on the Citadel would have been able to do that without paying off the Shadow Broker but I had to keep pushing. First things first, I'd figure out how long he was imprisoned. Maybe he had just recognized me himself. "I hope they tortured you. I hope they took months of your life, keeping you away from innocent people."

"Months?!" The rise in tension in his voice brought out some very real alarm in me and suddenly there was a knife in his hand, the old-fashioned metal blade on my neck. "It was four years! Four years of beatings and cowering under every _glance_ from the guards! Four years of nothing but pain and misery and screams in the dark! Do you have any idea what that's like? Do you?"

"No!" I gasped immediately, trying to calm him down. But what the hell? He was on Purgatory long before I made my claim to fame on Omega. His friend must have told him, and that meant that somebody knew that Alpha was on the Normandy and that the Normandy had arrived.

Or was _arriving_.

It almost seemed like Billy had been waiting here for us. He knew we were coming. And only those on board the Normandy knew both our destination and our passengers. So who had the loose lips?

He could have threatened the crew's families maybe, but the likelihood that he knew of anyone working with Shepard after spending the last four years on Purgatory were slim. No, someone went to _him_. Someone was using Billy as an attack dog. They either held a secret grudge against Cerberus, or the attack was directed at me. But which one was it? If it were the first, then I had to risk a message, to save the crew. No traitor would risk an attack themselves if the team members had been alerted.

"Listen closely, Alpha. You don't know pain or fear. But you will…" With a metallic chink, thick handcuffs clamped down on my wrists. Damn. This was getting trickier by the second. I had to get my information and get it quick. But how to lead into my next question?

My plans were interrupted when the skycar slowed to a stop in an isolated, dirty little lot full of vandalized shuttles. I tried to put an old plastic cup that had been wedged in the seat in front of the locking mechanism of the door to distract Billy enough for me to send EDI a message, but when the hatch didn't close he merely left it open. I was forced to hide my scowl with a series of pathetic sniffles.

"Our mutual friend suggested that little warehouse up there. I think you'll grow to like it as much as I have." He gave me another little grin, although the fury from earlier remained smoldering in his eyes. "Start walking. And don't forget: any funny business and I kill everyone from that ship of yours."

_Like you'll live that long_, I scoffed inwardly. But the blade digging into my back, making the first slice cut me off. Now I was less mad at him than I was at myself, because not only had I left my weapons behind, I'd also left my armor. I'd have to improvise something. What _did_ I have on me? Some more bugs, a magnifying glass for tech work, a few basic circuits and small power cells…and a laser.

I reached into my belt as quickly and subtly as possible, tucking the little metal cylinder into my palm under my glove. The laser was used for very small welds, but if I cranked it up enough it should be able to get through the metal cuffs on one of my wrists. Hopefully I wouldn't slice my hand off along with it. Now, information and quick.

Billy, however, was wasting no time. A flash from his omni-tool had the light beam connecting the cuffs on my wrist stretching toward the floor of the warehouse, and another clipping sound had a third thick metal cuff wrapped around my neck. Then there was another light beam leading up to the ceiling. Face yanked up and hands pulled down, I felt sickeningly exposed. At some point there would be no going back. At some point I would have to draw the line and say to hell with whoever hired him. My only hope would be to get some kind of clue from his omni-tool.

Luckily, that seemed to be the end of his restraining efforts and the knife came back out. He began to laugh low and circle me in a totally cheesy horror film way, which was way less funny than I would have liked. Right. Interrogation. Screwing up my face, I burst into the loudest and most convincing tears I could manage. "I don't understand! We were careful! Nobody was able to find us!"

"You should be more careful who you make friends with, Sweetheart," he chuckled, digging that knife into my back once again.

The pain made me gasp and I had to push that aside so that I could turn the waterworks back on. "B—but nobody on the Normandy would risk the lives of her entire crew!"

He laughed again and dug in even harder, causing me to buck in protest. "My threats against your friends may have been somewhat exaggerated. The real money lies in killing _you_. And once I have my bounty, I'll use your body to draw Shepard out."

So not a Cerberus traitor. They were just after me, whoever they were. And the only people who would pay to have me killed would be: Jacob, perhaps Mordin, or a crew member with an unknown grudge against Alpha. But Jacob and Mordin wouldn't waste their money, especially not on a grandstander like Billy. If they couldn't be seen killing me themselves, they had plenty of other more subtle and well trained people to draw favors from. And I wasn't sure that any of the crew had enough credits to drop on this.

I tried to bawl even louder. "Shepard?! He won't come for me. He doesn't care! Nobody cares about me!"

"Really?" Another cut, another bout of thrashing and some no longer faked screaming. "If he doesn't give a fuck, then why did he personally pick you for the little team he's building?"

I swallowed quickly. "He thought I was strong, but nobody else trusts me. I'm tearing his team apart!" An idea struck me then and I ran with it. "It was Shepard who hired you, wasn't it? This is how he's getting rid of me!"

I knew better than to think that Paragon Shepard would hire a hit man but Billy faltered at the accusation, as if he was considering it. "It can't be Shepard…. No, Shepard was just brought back from the dead. Unless he got two years of back pay then he couldn't possibly afford to…."

The psychotic serial killer's voice trailed off, but it was enough. Who did I know who would gamble a boatload of credits to entertain himself? It was a test—all of this—to see my capabilities. He wanted to make sure that I could keep up with the rest of the team that he'd hand-picked. "The Illusive Man."

Billy started as my fear was redirected into rage. I didn't give him long to think about it, though. The laser came out, slicing the cuff off of my left wrist. I reached back to grab him by his lengthening hair and everything went red after that as I smashed the thick metal still attached to my right arm into his head repeatedly.

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**A/N: Okay guys, for real. I try not to beg for reviews every chapter, but I have more than twice as many favorites for this story and _five times_ as many followers. Please, give me a little feedback here!**


	7. Ice Breaker

**A/N: Hey guys, just so you know, there is virtually no action in this chapter. It's going to be very emotional as I try and get Alpha to connect more with the Normandy crew. Sorry if it isn't what you were hoping for, but I gotta get it out of the way. **

**WARNING: This chapter has a few dark moments as well.**

**But I have to send a huge shout-out to my 5 reviewers for last chapter! You have no idea how much motivation you gave me! :) **

**Okay, all done. Enjoy.**

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_**Chapter 7: Ice Breaker**_

_Joker's POV:_

I sighed irritably. This most recent shore leave sucked. Most of the Wards were still down, the entire station was wrapped up in their politics and lies, the Alliance soldiers I'd run into had glared at me like some sort of traitor, and the Dark Star Lounge had been totally lame. Not to mention that Alpha had ditched me. I'd waited there for an hour before finally giving up and heading back to the Normandy.

At first I was convinced that she'd changed her mind and left me hanging, but 20 minutes after day shift curfew I started to think that maybe she'd just gotten lost. Now, it had been over an hour and there was still no sign of her. I wasn't really sure what to make of that. I mean, C-Sec was all over Zakera Ward. I highly doubted she was in any danger.

Unless she'd been arrested.

It was the only explanation I could come up with as I looked over at the bottle of Asari liquor I'd had delivered to the ship as a birthday present. No doubt she would need it when Shepard and Garrus got a hold of her.

Not that it was my problem. I didn't really know her or anything, but she seemed like she'd be a pretty cool person once you got her loosened up. Kind of like the rest of the tight-assed Cerberus crew. But unlike with them, I had been having a little bit of success prying her out of her shell. Omega, it seemed, had not completely smothered the ready smile and mild banter she'd managed in the cockpit as we were pulling in to the Citadel, and I was getting desperate for someone to talk to. Dr. Chakwas was an awesome person and everything but conversations with her always turned into medical exams and Shepard was just too busy.

"Mr. Moreau, Alpha has just crossed through the Citadel scanners and is on her way to the ship. Shall I report this to Shepard?"

The AI's voice, which still grated on me, brought at least a little bit of relief. Not in jail, just lost. Good. "No, he, Miranda, and Mordin are busy with Anderson. Just tell Garrus, he's the one Shepard left in charge."

"Understood."

I snatched the bottle of liquor off of the console and flicked lights on in the airlock for her. The hatch popped open a minute later and the decontamination ran without anyone saying a word. When I heard the quiet, shuffling footsteps on the perforated metal floor, I called out a teasing. "Have a nice long walk, did we?"

Any humor I was trying to insert into the situation disappeared when she came into view. The crew in the CIC all stopped to stare, no longer poised to poke fun at the trouble she was in for being late. Alpha was completely spattered in blood, which had stained the back half of her olive green cargo pants a dark brown and covered the few inches of visible skin on her forearms. A thorough spray had found its way up her neck and across her left cheek. Her black shirt and gloves had done a good job covering up the blood that soaked them, though there were small pieces of something suspiciously grey and lumpy that stood out against the dark background.

There was a long moment of silence before Alpha dared to break it. "The walk was fine." Her voice made it clear that she was exhausted, but it also held a bite I'd never heard in it before. She turned and headed for the elevator, snapping me out of my shock. I jumped up and hobbled after her.

"Wait, Alpha! What the hell happened?"

"Nothing."

"Bullshit." I grabbed her elbow, trying not to flinch as something squished between my fingers. She didn't have to stop—I wasn't putting up much resistance—but she did and faced me.

"It's nothing, Joker. I'm fine."

"Like hell you are!" I forced her eye contact and watched as anger fought with what looked like shame. "Tell me what happened. Please? I need you to trust us right now, like we trust you."

Well that did it. She suddenly wrenched her arm away, voice rising. "Don't do that!"

I blinked and retreated half a step, bashing my hip against the main CIC console. "What?"

"Don't trust me! I will betray you, Joker. You and everyone else! I am a selfish, calculating bitch that can't be relied on!" She backed away a little then and bowed her head, speech complete. "I'm leaving. Before I can do any real damage."

"Let's all just settle down now." I sighed a little in relief as I spotted Garrus, who had been on his way to scold her for missing the cutoff time. He stood nonchalantly ahead of us, arms crossed. "Nobody is leaving just yet."

"I can't stay on the Normandy," she told the Turian firmly.

"Shepard will decide that. At this point, it would be just as much of a risk for us to release you as to keep you."

She looked pissed for half a second, like she was about to invite him to try and stop her, but then shame won out. All aggression disappeared from her body language and there was a defeat in her eyes that reminded me of a buddy from Basic Training. That was what he had looked like right before…before he….

"I knew, Garrus. I knew that Sidonis was leading you away. And I knew that the mercs were going to slaughter your team. And I did nothing."

Ray had eaten his service pistol right in the middle of the barracks, a messy, horrifying experience that had led to half a dozen training dropouts and a lot of visits to the chaplain on my part. I still couldn't imagine seeing anything worse than that, still couldn't imagine the misery he'd released in blood all over my bunk, but I felt sure that Alpha's suicide-by-Garrus was going to be just as bad as the last and I'd be damned if I let the rest of these other guys see that too. Kelly was busy enough on this mission, without having to worry about a suicide chain.

It took a second for Garrus to process the statement and determine that she was telling the truth. I tried to stop him, but he was just too fast. A talon lashed out and grabbed her by a metal collar on her neck that I had only just noticed she was wearing. Then, with a mighty heave, he tossed her across the room and into the elevator, growling: "We need to talk in private." She offered no resistance, sagging limply like some sort of ragdoll.

The entire crew began a mad scramble toward the closing doors, trying to stop what was about to happen, but we were too slow. The elevator locked shut, leaving me pounding on the outside, the bones in my hands shattering.

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_Alpha's POV_

Garrus was an intimidating guy.

I'd never really noticed before. In the game, they kind of portrayed him as the kid on Shepard's apron strings: clearly very talented, but still developing. Now I could tell that the developing had all happened very quickly during his time on Omega. He was every inch the Archangel in this moment.

And yet, all of his anger and all of that intimidation just seemed so distant. I could see it, but I couldn't really feel it. It was like watching a silent movie—disconnected somehow.

He paced very quickly back and forth across the elevator while I sat there on the floor. I could sense the war going on in him, fighting to stay calm. He was trying to reason with himself about my earlier statement and convince himself that things weren't really as bad as he thought. The calm Garrus was losing. Finally, he composed himself enough to speak.

"You told me that you didn't see the danger to my team until I was already on my way back."

I figured that I should put a little bit of an apology into my voice—I owed him that, at least—but it just came out kind of dead. "I lied."

"Why?!" he snarled, grabbing me by the neck and shoving me against the wall. My feet dangled above the ground, another testament to his imposing figure.

"I thought that if your team survived, you would be inclined to stay on Omega. I was afraid that you wouldn't help Shepard."

His grey eyes began to water with pain and rage and he pulled me away from the wall of the elevator so that he could slam me back into it. "That was my choice to make, damn it! You let ten good men die because you didn't trust me?"

"Yes."

I thought that he was finally going to do it. I thought that he was finally going to kill me. But he didn't. He just dropped me, staggering as if I had physically stabbed him in the chest. He braced an arm on the wall, refusing to look my way. "Why did you tell me that? Why didn't you just keep lying?"

My response was quiet. As insubstantial as I felt. "To prove to you that you couldn't trust me."

"Really?" he snapped. "Because you took a lot of care to _make_ us trust you at Shepard's little meet-and-greet. You made_ Jacob_ look like the bad guy, which isn't easy."

"Well, Jacob was right. I just didn't know that until today…."

He looked me over, a grief-filled glare scanning the blood and brain matter I'd been practically swimming in since my encounter with Billy. "So who did you betray today? Is one of our crew not coming back?"

"It wasn't one of the crew." I sniffed suddenly as the world came rushing back. Whatever spell of indifference that had consumed me before was broken by the Turian's lack of violence. That I could have dealt with. But this? This raw pain. This was all of the unfairness of Omega brought back to sit on my chest. My incompetence and fear and powerlessness. My failures unburied. I began to cry.

It occurred to me, vaguely, that I hadn't cried since my unfreezing. Which was strange, considering how much there had been to cry about here. I had just been treating this like a game. Like I was expecting that last mission to include a time machine at the end or something. I thought that if it followed the story, then life was okay. That maybe, after everything, I'd find myself holding an xbox controller and this would all be a dream. But it wasn't. None of this was fair or happy. It was dark and agony could be found in every face. Was this really what the world had come to?

The elevator door slid open into the cargo bay, where a fresh load of supplies had been neatly stacked by dock workers. With the light filtering in, I hastily moved to compose myself, wiping my wet face on my sleeve. It didn't take long for me to give up on this, though. Between the tears and the makeup on my face and the blood on my clothes, there would be no salvaging my appearance.

Garrus sat opposite me, reclined on the floor with a foot holding the door open so that the elevator wouldn't bring us back up into the crowd of the CIC. He met my eye, the hurt of his destroyed team still in the forefront of his expression. "If it wasn't a crew member, then whose face did you smash in?"

I sniffed again, trying to regulate my breathing. "Just some psycho-killer. The Illusive Man sent him after me, some kind of test, I imagine."

He frowned and I was relieved to see his eyes calm from a near breakdown to mere concern. "Can't say I didn't expect him to try anything. But how does that mean that you betrayed everyone?"

I averted my eyes, tugging uncomfortably at the collar which I'd been afraid to remove on my own with the laser so close to my neck. "He said if I didn't cooperate, he'd go after the crew and…and I almost let him. I almost ran away from some scrawny fugitive like a scared little girl and let him attack Joker and the others!"

"But you didn't," Garrus interrupted, before I could continue rambling. He pointed at the metal brace. "You didn't let him get the crew. You killed him first."

"Well, yeah. I cooperated eventually, _but I thought about it_, Garrus."

He gave a short little chuckle. "That's what you've been freaking out about? Damn, you scared the shit out of me."

"It's not funny!" I growled, suddenly angry again.

He held up a hand in a placating gesture. "Alpha, of course you thought about it. When there's a gun in your face and you have the option of throwing someone under the bus to save your own skin, everyone _thinks_ about it. That doesn't matter, the important part is your _decision_." I hesitated, pulling my knees to my chest as I considered what he'd said. "Look, we're strategists. We see all of the choices—even the bad ones—but you decided to protect the crew…. Even if you came out a little worse for wear."

I shook my head, indicating that I was fine. My back hurt like hell, but other than that it was just some burns from the laser and a few bruises from walking through the predominantly Turian section of the Tayseri Wards looking for a functioning cab. "I could have avoided most of these, but I wanted to stay and find out who hired him. Should've known it would take the Illusive Man to get a prison escapee onto the Citadel."

"Prison escapee? You mean Billy?" I blinked in surprise and nodded before realizing that the Commander must have shared the troubling email. "He sent Shepard a message. Said he likes to carve his name into his victims."

I flinched a little, remembering. "Yes, he was very fond of that knife." Garrus grunted in response and we sat in silence for a while.

That was when EDI's voice rang out in the elevator. "Mr. Vakarian, Shepard has returned and is requesting a status report."

The Turian sighed. "Tell him we're fine, EDI. Just talking now." There was another long pause.

"Commander Shepard is pleased to hear that and would appreciate it if you could find somewhere to talk that didn't deny the Normandy crew the use of the elevator."

We both blushed and Garrus jumped up. "Right, sorry. Do you need to see Dr. Chakwas, Alpha?"

He offered me a gloved hand and I accepted, allowing him to pull me up and out of the elevator. I watched him frown at the dark brown smears I left behind. All of that excitement must have reopened the wounds on my back. "I'm fine, but can you help me get this cuff off?"

I handed him the small welding tool and went to find a place to sit down, unintentionally revealing the damage to my back. Garrus gasped. "Holy damn! Guess he really does—did—like the knife. You should see Chakwas."

"The cost was worth the prize. And I really don't want to see anyone right now," I admitted, bowing my head and turning away from him on the crate I'd perched on. Sighing again, the vigilante gave in and approached, turning on the little laser and preparing to carefully remove the collar. But right as I started to feel the heat of the device, I opened my big mouth. "Garrus…I really am sorry about your team."

The words shocked him into silence for a long moment and we both felt the tension. He had the welder at my neck already, and he had every right to want to kill me. There was nothing stopping him, and if he went ahead and took advantage of this—well, I couldn't blame him.

"I sacrificed ten lives trying to play God. I let them get cut down. It's not a mistake I'll be making again."

He hesitated a few more seconds before I felt a searing line down the side of my throat. For a moment I thought he'd gone ahead and done it, but then the metal fell away. "Look, as much as I wish you'd come to that conclusion sooner, you aren't the one who killed my team. The mercs paid for it with their lives and the traitor Sidonis will pay the same price soon enough. You didn't owe us anything. We didn't even know you—and we certainly didn't help you out at all. Just promise me one thing."

I met his eye, determined. I would do most anything right now to atone for my mistake.

"Help me find Sidonis and kill him."

.0

I'd had to give a statement to C-Sec after my shower. They assured me that my self-defense justification would be enough, especially considering Billy's criminal history. And then I'd had a chat with Shepard and Miranda. They were mostly concerned about me after watching tape of my tantrum in the CIC. We had the whole little talk about 'everyone thinks it' all over again, though I still wasn't sure I believed them. And now, with 45 minutes of my birthday remaining, Garrus and Joker had joined me in the cargo hold.

We were reclined in various positions in a circle, Garrus on the floor, Joker on Ken's old mattress with the burn hole in the middle, and me in a now-legless chair from the mess. The pilot's bottle of asari liquor sat on the floor between us and the turian nursed a glass of dextro whiskey. They were catching up on each others' activities during Shepard's dead days and I listened with a smile until they turned to me.

"You know, Mordin was pretty impressed with your Collector report. He said that if he'd known what you were up to, he'd have gotten some DNA samples from the dead ones."

I shrugged off the praise and took another swig. This blue stuff was pretty good. "Well, he doubled the report so I guess it wasn't as thorough as I thought." And it was true, his revisions had added a great deal of detail that I'd overlooked. Not that I was worried. My research into aliens had been spotty at best, between the books I'd scrounged up on Omega and extranet articles, but I only did it because it interested me. Dextro vs. Levo proteins, Krogans' redundant organs, and the brain chemistry behind Asari bonding. It was just a hobby, albeit one that I'd spent a lot of time on.

Joker scoffed. "Hello, have you met Mordin? The smug salarian know-it-all on the Command Deck? The guy can talk forever! Besides, he's had a lot of education and I seriously doubt you have a degree in Xenobiology—especially if you spent at least a year and a half on Omega—you're too young."

"How old are you, anyway?" Garrus interjected, swirling the little glass canister with his whiskey.

My eyes widened a fraction before I could stop them and the other two noticed with a frown. I tried to smile it off. "It's…uh…complicated."

"Please don't tell me you're one of those girls that always try to hide their age? You look, like, 14! You should be proud!" Joker toasted me with his bottle, though he seemed mildly irritated at the use of the word 'complicated.' It must have been used against him quite a bit to incite that quick hostility. I made a mental note to use it as little as possible. "It's a simple question with a simple answer."

"Yeah. And seriously, did you really expect that nobody would ask how old you were on your birthday?" the tipsy Turian added.

My brow furrowed, leaking how upset I was getting by what should have been an innocent question. "I _simply expected_ to lie." Both boys froze, expressions hardening as though they had grown extremely tired of those who would play games with them. I avoided eye contact, examining the water spots on my scotch glass. "I've lied to a lot of people for a lot of different reasons, but I don't want to do that to you guys."

"Why just us?" Garrus demanded.

I sighed and rolled the broken chair onto its back so that I could face the ceiling. "Look, I haven't exactly had friends since…well, I haven't had any for a really long time. In all honesty, you guys are probably the closest thing I've got. And I respect you too much to try and pull a fast one on you." It was odd. I really didn't know them all that well, but they were the only characters that had demonstrated even a mild concern for my health, except maybe Shepard. And besides, I didn't want to get too attached to the others. They weren't Shepard's crew yet, they were still Cerberus

"So then tell us the truth," Joker urged. "We just wanted to know how old you were. Is that such a difficult question to answer?"

"You don't understand what you're asking of me." I sensed more than saw or heard their sudden dismissal. They were giving up on me ever telling them anything, which seemed suddenly, soul-crushingly sad. I realized that I didn't want to be like the Illusive Man. I didn't want to live alone in the dark surrounded by secrets. I wanted things to be more like they were before, when I had friends and a family and a future. "Can you guys promise me that this will stay between the three of us?"

Joker shifted somewhere on my left before calling out: "Sure. I can hold my tongue, if it's that big a deal."

I glanced at Garrus, confirming that he was on board with the impromptu fight club. He was looking very seriously at me, all traces of the alcohol gone from his demeanor. He was curious now—intensely so. "Just between us," he agreed.

I sighed and looked back up at the ceiling, knowing that I was going to regret this very deeply later. Right now, however, I was more concerned with whether or not they were even going to believe me. "Alright then. You should know that for all intents and purposes, I'm 26."

I hesitated, but Garrus prodded me on. "And what about technically?"

"Technically, today is my 195th birthday."

There was a long pause and I listened intently, trying to see their expressions despite not being brave enough to look with my eyes. Finally, Joker spoke. "So…are you a genetic experiment, or is this like those old vids of being frozen and waking up in the future?"

"…The latter," I choked out.

"So 195 total years minus 26 living ones equals 169 years in cryo." Garrus shifted more and a two-toed foot braced on the seat of the chair to lever me up into a sitting position. "That's a very long time. A lot has changed since then."

"You're telling me," I mumbled, cringing under the eyes I could no longer hide from. "People, countries, technology…. You should have seen my face when I first saw a vorcha! That's why I worked so hard to learn tech and xenobiology and…well, every piece of information I could get my hands on."

"…Omega is a tough place to learn all of that," the Normandy pilot noted quietly. "So how long have you been awake?"

"Two years."

We were quiet again, for a long time. Sloshing more booze into mine and Joker's glasses and tossing Garrus another bottle of dextro liquor, we downed our portions in silence. Then there was another small mutter from the direction of the mattress. "Complicated indeed."

.0

The Normandy was filling up rather fast. Shepard had recruited Kazumi on the Citadel and had then taken Jacob and Miranda with him to meet with Okeer. Grunt was still in his tank on the engineering deck, and I hadn't run into the invisible thief yet, but I was making a more conscious effort to reach out to other members of the crew. Right now, I was in the mess talking to Ken and Gabby about possible ways to streamline the propulsion system and increase the Normandy's speed.

"We can't bypass that system, it regulates power to prevent damage to the thrusters," Gabby was saying.

Ken poked a fork in her direction as he finished his mouthful of passable chicken that Gardner had prepared with the fresh ingredients from the Citadel. "Yes but if we put in a valve and then just monitored the condition of the thrusters—or even put an electrical sensor system in to respond to critical heat levels—"

"Wait," I interjected. "The purpose of that system is to save you the trouble of monitoring. And it looks for more reliable things that just heat levels. We'd be better off adjusting the conditions to which the system responds."

"But they're set to optimum levels for continued flight power—I calibrated it this morning. We'd need to reinforce the thrusters themselves if we want to mess around with that," the female engineer reasoned.

I tapped my own fork to my lips, thinking. "You know, we might be able to find a better alloy."

Ken gaped at me. "And rebuild the thrusters from scratch! You're crazy, that would take forever!"

But I had Gabby thinking. "We could just line the main power channels—maybe with a synthetic coating—"

"—that would dispel the heat generated by the core, kind of like what's in the heat sinks," Ken finished.

"I'm going to go check what we have to spare. Our stop on Illium tomorrow will be our best chance. See you later, Alpha."

I waved them off and set about finishing my meal. I wasn't alone long, though, as Shepard seated himself across the table from me. "Well, you look to be in a better mood today."

I nodded, flashing him a bit of a smile. "Much. I looked it up and it turns out that you and Garrus were right. The Alliance has all sorts of training videos on what you might start thinking in those situations."

"But you still aren't sure you believe it?" I frowned and noticed then how closely Shepard was watching me. I was either a terrible liar or he was excellent at reading people. Either way, I'd need to be more careful. "Anyway, you should have gotten those videos during Basic Training if you were with the Alliance."

I cursed, remembering the day in Mordin's lab. "I said I was military, not Alliance."

Shepard didn't look happy with the revelation and he leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms. "Alpha…." I sighed, but didn't say anything. Eventually, he continued. "Garrus said that you told him something." My eyes narrowed angrily, but Shepard merely raised a finger, asking me to wait. "He wouldn't tell me what it was, only that you would need to trust me more before you admitted it to me. And I understand that, but I would appreciate it if you could hold off on the half-truths. If you don't want to talk about it, please just say so."

I drew in the sauce left on my empty plate, properly scolded. His conditions were fair enough, but I had just started getting onto good terms with the crew. With Shepard, I only seemed to be going backward. Was that proof that I was an awful person? That I was more like the Illusive Man than a team member? "I'm sorry, Shepard. I'm not used to having people around who won't use the details of my life against me."

"…It's alright. I haven't earned your confidence just yet. Maybe you'll be able to tell me before the end of all of this. At any rate, I'd like you to go with me onto Illium tomorrow afternoon. I think it would be good for us to get to know each other when we aren't getting shot at."

I nodded eagerly. "Of course, just let me know when you want to leave."


	8. Thin Ice

**A/N: Hey all! Thank you for my 2 new reviews! Trying out a new summary, so let me know what you think or if the old one was better. **

**No POV change this chapter, hope you enjoy anyway.**

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_**Chapter 8: Thin Ice**_

I quite liked Illium. We had been allowed to dock a lot sooner than expected, what with Shepard being a Spectre again, so early morning light struck the tall metal buildings and bathed everything in a pinkish hue. It was good to be on a planet again. Real air and weather and room to move. I missed it.

We waved goodbye to the concierge as I sorted Nos Astra's scanner data. It had been much more difficult to upload a virus this time, as most every part of the docking service involved the use VIs. My script had been at least 7 times longer than my ones for Omega or the Citadel. But I had gotten access, so it was alright. And once the concierge and the mechs were looking the other way, I planted a video bug in the main entrance so that I could see the faces of everyone who had come to visit the port. Shepard gave me a strange look when he saw it but I shrugged and he didn't ask.

We stopped to listen to the rachni's message, an encounter that sent a chill down my spine. The asari who delivered it was clearly no longer all there, though Shepard seemed to believe her assurances against mind control. Speaking to Gianna was a much more grounded experience, however brief, and she soon left us. I couldn't believe that Shepard almost walked off without looking at the note.

"Commander," I muttered just loud enough so that he could hear me. "Gianna bought you the drink. It would be impolite to refuse."

"I don't have time to—" At that point, Garrus spotted the writing on the napkin and bumped Shepard's shoulder firmly. Suddenly, he seemed to understand and 'gave in,' picking up the glass and napkin. "Oh alright."

We approached the merchant, Shepard handing the napkin to Garrus to throw away, so that the turian could see what they were up to. His eyes lit up for the detective work and I felt a small smile tug at my lips. These two really did work well together. "Welcome!" the merchant greeted enthusiastically.

"Is everything here so expensive? I'd planned to drop a lot of credits today. I'm outfitting a team for a very important mission."

She offered the discount—how could she refuse?—and mentioned the special items, prompting another inquiry. The exchange suddenly got unpleasant very fast. It reminded me of my interrogation with Billy and the wounds on my back, which were now thoroughly scabbed over, began to itch. I turned away for the rest of the conversation and set another few cameras on the kiosk and with good vantage points of the rest of the trading floor. Shepard could take it from here.

We got the asari, Hermia, and then spoke to Gianna some more. I wasn't sure if it had been mentioned in the conversation from the game, I may not have been paying close enough attention, but when she mentioned hacking attempts and someone's sudden interest in dark energy, it seemed very significant to the Mass Effect storyline. Had it all come together somehow in the third game, which I hadn't played? Or maybe some downloadable content I hadn't bought? I slipped the contact information for my regular omni-tool into her pocket as she was giving Shepard her kiss on the cheek. Maybe there was something important that I could get from her.

"Very ballsy, Shepard," Garrus teased. "Kissing another woman right under Liara's window?"

The Commander blushed furiously and led us away, up the steps to the information broker's office. "Very funny, Vakarian."

"We'll see if Liara thinks so."

"Welcome, Commander Shepard. Liara will be pleased to see you." I made a face at the secretary, Nyxeris. Although her words and demeanor were appropriate, her lies were almost palpable in the cadence of her voice. That was the first time that it occurred to me that I had never been that great at reading people before my freezing. The thought made me frown. Sure Omega and my occupation would have spurred that talent, but my sensitivity to people's intentions and emotions suddenly seem so….

"You're Liara's assistant?"

Shaking myself back to the present, I planted yet another camera and bug here. Nyxeris was so focused on fixing her facial expression to hide her falsehoods to Shepard that she wasn't really focused on me or Garrus. "But I believe she should tell you about that, not me."

"I'll talk to you later."

"Of course, Commander."

The turian gave me a warning glare, as if asking what I had just done and trying to tell me I'd regret it, but I returned it with a look that I hope said 'trust me'. We immediately stepped into the office, finding the young asari glaring at a hologram of some poor human.

"Have you faced an asari commando before? Few humans have. I'll make it simple. Either you pay me, or I'll flay you alive…_with my mind_!" She ended the exchange there for dramatic effect and then turned. Shock covered her face as she saw us and she sputtered out: "Shepard! Nyxeris, hold my calls!"

Both Garrus and I turned away as she and the Commander exchanged a quick, intimate moment that she suddenly seemed to regret. And one last camera here. That one was going to hurt later, I knew, but I would never get another chance for it. Bowing her head, Liara moved away, distancing herself and placing the desk between them, an oddly symbolic gesture of choosing her work over her previous relationship.

"My sources said you were alive, but I never believed…. It's very good to see you."

"You have sources now?"

"A few…" she admitted. "Sources, contacts, even some hired muscle. It's paid the bills since you…well, for the past two years. And now you're back, gunning for the Collectors with Cerberus."

"If you know that, then you know that I could use your help." And we really could. The statement nearly broke Liara's heart, but she was insistent.

"I can't, Shepard. I'm sorry. I have commitments here. Things I need to take care of."

"What kinds of things do you need to take care of? Are you in trouble?"

"No, no trouble." She mumbled a few vague references to her difficulties over the last few years before asking for our help. "If you could disable security at key points around Illium, you could get me the information I need. That would help me a great deal." Her eyes flickered to me in the corner, suddenly growing hard before turning softly back to Shepard.

But he wasn't buying it. "Why won't you just tell me what this is all about? Can't you just talk to me?"

"Don't you think I want to, Shepard?" I felt myself suddenly sympathizing with Liara. The secrets were clearly eating away at her too, perhaps even more than they were killing me. "This is Illium. Anything I say is probably being recorded." I shifted guiltily. _Yes, by me_.

"If it will help you, I'll take care of it."

Liara then instructed us on how we'd have to hack in order to view the heavily encrypted messages and gave us what she had about Thane and Samara. Only when we were about to leave did she break script, turning to me. "If you don't mind, I would like a quick word with your friend, Raiza, before you go."

I stiffened, but both Shepard and Garrus merely looked confused. "Raiza? You mean Alpha, here?"

"That's the identity that the Illusive Man made me," I explained. "But what was it you wanted to discuss?" Liara made me nervous. She may still be clinging to the innocence of childhood, but that didn't mean she wasn't dangerous.

"Please, Shepard. It will only take a moment." Damn, and in private? My only hope here was for the Commander to refuse.

"Sure. We'll be shopping down on the trading floor. Find us when you're done."

I cursed colorfully in my head, trying to act casual as the door sealed shut behind my teammates. Three possibilities: she'd seen me planting cameras, she thought I was somehow connected to the Shadow Broker, or she believed I was in the Cerberus part of the crew and didn't trust me on the Commander's team. None of these were particularly promising.

"Please, take a seat." I did so, noting that the bulletproof glass overlooking the trade floor wouldn't shatter, making the door the only possible exit. Her desk was a fair stretch away from it and her 'loyal' biotic assistant would be waiting for me on the other side. This was precarious at best and she seemed to notice my nervousness. "Do you prefer Alpha or Raiza?"

"Alpha," I said quickly.

"Well, Alpha. I have a problem." She steepled her fingers in a surprisingly intimidating way. "Because you have no identity. You have no birthplace, no criminal or job history, and no family. You don't exist."

"That's complicated."

She shook her head dismissively. "Someone erased you from every galactic identification system. Someone powerful. Someone like the Shadow Broker."

I sighed. That was certainly what it looked like, and I couldn't offer her anything to contradict her theory. Someone like Liara would shove right though every bit of truth I gave her to the thing that really mattered. The game. "I don't work for the Shadow Broker, Ms. T'soni. And there is nothing I can give you to prove it, except my word. I don't have any connection to him except my line of work."

She was quiet for a while, trying to figure out if I was telling the truth. Finally, she straightened. "Your activities seem to have been restricted to Omega."

"I put a lot of work into that station."

"Yes," my interruption had clearly irritated her. "But why? You weren't making money there. You had to have had access to a lot of very private information, based upon some of the data you supplied, and yet my sources declare that you turned down a great deal of business. You found yourself above handing out information to certain people, almost like you were trying to be virtuous."

I felt my face harden. "Is there no line _you_ won't cross?" We glared at each other for a moment.

"If you were so worried about that then why did you stay on Omega? Why not go to the Citadel or here to Illium?"

"I don't exist, remember?"

"You had contacts and sources! Remarkably loyal ones, apparently. An entire criminal enterprise was open to you on Omega. They could have gotten you off world for a price—and you could have afforded to pay a great deal!"

"You've never been to Omega before, have you?" I accused. She hesitated. "I've seen their work in action and I know how see-through it is. If it won't fool me then it certainly won't fool my enemies. Not the dangerous ones, anyway."

"Dangerous enemies like who? Aria?"

"For starters," I admitted carefully. Irritably, I stood. "Again, I'm not connected to the Shadow Broker. Take that information or leave it. And I'm not pretending that there's nothing shady about my identity, but I'm not giving you any explanations either."

.0

The rest of the morning went slowly. We got Liara the data, talked to the asari and krogan couple, helped Shiala, and calmed Conrad down. Overall, a very productive visit, interspersed with bouts of shopping that whittled down our credits to almost nothing. Now, we were hitting the datapoints to give Liara her target. Shepard and Garrus were looking over the small bits of intelligence in frustration.

"This is impossible. It's all backstabbing and stuff! I mean we can rule out some of them, but…. Hey Alpha, you're good with this stuff. Can you take a look?"

I sighed, still a little pissed about my encounter with Liara. I was probably pouting childishly, but she was just too damn smart for her own good at this point. Not that this kind of thing would kill me. I waved them aside and scanned it. "You're right, you can rule out the turian and the salarian based on Data Point 3. Oh, and here's something interesting. Data Point 5 identifies the Observer as female, meaning that scrolling back through to Data Point 1 tells us the vorcha trader and the batarian are both male. That just leaves the krogan and there's no way that they would be able to hide a female krogan on Illium, let alone use her as an effective contact. So either all of this data is compromised or there's a sixth contact we haven't learned about yet. Where did Liara get this information from again?"

Garrus shifted thoughtfully. "I believe it was Nyxeris." Their faces remained blank for half a second before it dawned on them. Shepard's eyebrows shot up.

"A female! Liara could be in trouble!" He was only on his earpiece for a moment and then we were running.

The confrontation had been a short one and was done by the time we got there. Liara was seated calmly behind her desk once more as two security agents hauled the body away on a stretcher. What was left of it. This definitely hadn't been in the game. I stood outside this time, making sure that nobody was going to barge in on their private conversation. Shepard thought it best, due to my demeanor after our chat and I wasn't about to complain. Liara left a short time later, looking shaken by the Cerberus intel about the Shadow Broker's location.

"Come on. We're going to start with Samara, the asari Justicar. Once we get her, then you two can have a break and I'll go after Thane. We should start by talking to tracking officer Dara." I nodded, glad to be back on track and not thinking about Liara. We jogged the distance to the carport and, with a little searching and asking for some directions, located the tracking office.

She greeted us casually enough. "Can I help you with something?"

"I'm looking for an asari justicar named Samara."

"Wait. Why? Do you have a problem, or…" Officer Dara suddenly looked alarmed. "Did she kill somebody already?"

"Relax—I just need to speak with her." Although tense, Dara gave us the info we needed and more than a few warnings about politeness and virtue in her presence. After that, Shepard got us a cab and we headed out, arriving just in time to see the encounter between Pitne For and the asari detective. Shepard gave me a slightly apologetic look. "Sorry, Alpha. I have a bad feeling that this outing may involve gunplay after all."

I shrugged and gave him a little smile. "That's alright, Shepard. I knew that trouble would find us eventually. Your reputation proceeds you."

"And you, as well." I flinched at his remark, alluding to my encounter with Liara. "Garrus, Alpha, see what you can get out of the volus. He seems to know where Samara is hanging around. I'm going to talk to that detective."

"Right." We split up for a few minutes before meeting again outside of the security office. "Pitne For didn't have much for us, Shepard. He's worried about Samara killing him, but doesn't know where she's run off to. We may have to go back and check with her tracking officer and see if she'd heard from her lately," Garrus explained.

"No need. Detective Anaya says she's investigating the crime scene and agreed to give us access. Sounds like a pretty bad situation. If we can't convince Samara to leave, the officers are going to have to arrest her, and the Justicar Code won't allow her to be taken into custody."

"Then we'd better be convincing," I noted as we all shifted solemnly.

"Right, let's head to the crime scene then."

We passed a console inside and I did my usual thing as subtly as possible before coming across the message I had forgotten about. "Shepard, looks like they weren't lying about corruption on the spaceport." Shepard nodded disinterestedly as I forwarded the message on to this 'Thax' character. Why not? If I remember correctly, it worked out alright for Shepard and I may be able to get a good contact out of it. I needed to look up what I could find on this Thax character.

A short firefight with some mercs later and we were going through another door. That was when we saw her. I narrowly ducked a flying body and we watched a vivid blue asari in yellow armor curse softly. "Those were my best troops!"

"Tell me what I need to know and I will be gone from here. Where did you send her?" Samara made her entrance, strolling slowly but deliberately toward the merc.

"You think I'd betray her? She would hurt me in ways you can't even imagine!" The 3 of us exchanged uncertain looks at the news, but the scene played on and our eyes were drawn back to Samara, who glowed with biotic power.

"The name of the ship. Your life hangs on the answer, Lieutenant."

Gotta give it to the merc. She was brave. "You can kill me, but one of us will take you down, Justicar." Brandishing her weapon was a mistake that she had little time to regret. Samara tossed her across the room effortlessly, through a pane of glass and into a metal beam.

The Justicar followed gracefully, flying elegantly through the air and meeting the downed merc again. This time, she put a heeled boot on her throat. "What was the name of the ship she left on?"

Choking for air, with no way out, the merc gasped out one last defiant challenge. "Go to hell."

A flicker of irritation passed over Samara, but as quickly as it appeared, it was smothered by a powerful, meditative aura that returned her to her cold, merciless state. "Find peace in the embrace of the goddess." I cringed again when I heard the sound of a snapping neck, and when she turned her gaze to us I felt the urge to retreat, but Shepard led us forward instead. "My name is Samara, a servant of the Justicar Code. My quarrel is with these Eclipse sisters, but I see three well-armed people before me. Are we friend, or foe?"

Shepard wasn't as impressed as I was. Firmly, he confronted her. "That merc was wounded and helpless. Do you just kill anyone who won't help you?"

But Samara was unshaken. "If my cause is important enough, yes. Are you different?"

"I've killed enemies, but always with good reason," he growled.

"I answer to a code that is clearly defined. If my actions are true to that code, I am just. If they are not, I am unjust." My eyes were drawn to the justicar, a new respect mingling with nervousness. Hearing her words in person leant them a power and righteousness that I had never felt before. "I do not pretend that it is a simple matter, or that it seems right to everyone. But I sleep well at night, and that is more than most can say." _Definitely more than I can say_. "How may I be of service to you?"

"I'm going up against suicidal odds and I need the best—that's you."

Samara weighed the statement for a moment before answering. "I sense the truth in what you say and is humbles me. But I seek an incredibly dangerous fugitive." She seemed genuinely apologetic as her feelings wrestled briefly with her Code. "I cornered her here, but these Eclipse sisters smuggled her off world. I must find the name of the ship she left on, before the trail goes cold."

Anaya appeared then, like a ghost from the hallway we'd just cleared. I jumped, but everyone else maintained their cool. "I wish you were willing to go with the human, Justicar. I've been ordered to take you into custody if you won't leave."

"You risk a great deal by following your orders, Detective. Fortunately, I will not have to resist. My Code obligates me to cooperate with you for one day. After that, I must return to my investigation."

"I won't be able to release you that soon," Anaya told her quietly, both of them recognizing what this meant.

"You won't be able to stop me."

"Uh, the human is lost here," Shepard grunted irritably. "Can one of you clarify?"

"I was trying to convince her to leave with you, but Justicars and their Code…" Anaya hissed, annoyed that Shepard had not yet grasped the gravity of the situation.

Samara remained much calmer. "The detective has been ordered to detain me; I cannot force her to disobey an order."

"And after a day, Samara breaks out, killing anyone in her way," Garrus finished bluntly.

"I'm afraid so."

"There must be some way we can all get what we need," he insisted.

The older asari brightened. "I see a way. While I am in custody, you find the name of that ship. Do that, and I will join you. Then the Code will be satisfied."

The conversation settled down a bit after that, talk about Justicars and Samara's apparent change of heart, but in the end the detective led her away and we were on our way back to speak with Pitne For. I almost laughed aloud when he said the part about making the copy of the pass-card the Ecilpse had given him and later returning the original—it sounded like something I would do. We used it on the elevator. The ride was short and a mech greeted us at the top.

"Well, I guess we're not wasting any time," I grumbled, waiting for my omni-tool to cool down after the overload I'd used.

"We only have until this time tomorrow, let's not waste our chance. Detective Anaya and her entire security force will be killed if we fail."

Garrus nodded firmly. "Right, let's go."

We were hit with the dirty red gas that the volus had mentioned the second we stepped into the next room. They must have had cameras up, because they were expecting us. Damn it, I could have jammed those if I'd thought about it! Luckily, they were no match for us. Garrus and I took out the mechs while Shepard used his shockwave to distract them. Then my damping and the turian's concussive shot did the rest. It was the next room where things got tricky.

I hear a whispering through the first door, what sounded like a prayer, and felt my body grow cold. That damned asari I had almost forgotten. But I couldn't say anything as Shepard opened the door and led us in. He glanced suspiciously around the room, spotting only the barrel of a shotgun on the floor. He motioned for us to pretend to leave until she gave herself away by peeking. We had our weapons out in an instant.

"Wait! Stop! I didn't even fire my gun! I pretended to because the other Eclipse sisters were watching, but I didn't really shoot!"

The lies filled the air with a palpable thickness and I was horrified when Shepard lowered his pistol. "She's in an Eclipse uniform, Commander!" I protested, but she was back with her fake pleas.

"I'm not one of them! I'm new! I though being Elnora the mercenary would be cool…but I didn't know what they were really like!" She drew her shotgun once more but lowered it quickly.

Shepard bought it. "What do they do here that you don't like, Elnora?" he asked gently. I was actually a little glad that I didn't shoot her right away. She told Shepard about the Ardat-Yakshi, though my never lowering my weapon seemed to make her more nervous and desperate.

"Get out of here, Elnora," he finally allowed. "If you so much as jay walk, I will find you."

"Yes, Sir. Yes—" she stopped when I stepped into her way, my pistol in her face.

"Please tell me you don't believe her, Shepard."

"Alpha…" he growled, but I continued before I had to disobey a direct order.

"You heard Pitne For. An Eclipse sister earns her uniform by committing a murder. You said you're new, right? Brand new? I bet you killed that volus. The murder the detective is investi—"

I gotta say, she was tougher than she looked. And sneakier. I can usually see biotic attacks coming, but she had me off my feet and against the far wall of the hallway before I could react to the fact that she'd cleverly frozen my trigger finger. The attack dissipated quickly, though, as Shepard took his own pistol right to the side of her head.

"Alpha? You okay?" I nodded, letting Garrus pull me to my feet.

"Fine. Is she—"

"She's dead," Shepard assured me guiltily. I couldn't be sure if the regret in his eyes was for killing her or for not doing so sooner. I hoped it was the latter. "Let's move on."

We went through another two warehouses full of supplies, mercs, a gun ship, and that toxic red crap that Pitne For had sold them before coming to what seemed to be a small security desk. "Shepard, I need a sec," Garrus choked. It looked like he had breathed in too much of the chemical. The Commander found him a seat and I took the opportunity to go through Elnora's personal logs. Shepard seemed extremely relieved to have my suspicions confirmed and asked me to make a copy for Anaya.

Still, his initial regret was troubling. Was it so hard for him to kill in my defense? Had Liara instilled some kind of distrust in him?

I pushed it out of my mind, determined to get through the mission first. There was still a lot to do. "Okay, Shepard. I'm good now. Let's get going."

The next room looked relatively unchallenging, containing only a few mechs, but it was also open to enemy air support. The gunship was a nasty surprise and I took one of the large rounds to the hip after loosing another overload—an injury that would have me limping for a week. Damn, that thing had torn right through my shields! It took two doses of medigel to stop the bleeding. Now I really wouldn't be able to avoid seeing Chakwas. I hissed in pain and hovered a hand over the injury, waiting in cover until Shepard took it out with a couple of missiles. Then we were up and running. We got Pitne For's shipping manifest and spoke to the biotic god, distractions for which I was grateful before we faced the Eclipse's HQ.

"You okay to fight?" Shepard demanded, examining the hit.

I waved him off. "Plenty of time for that later. We need to get in and get what we came for before reinforcements arrive."

Although reluctant, he nodded and led the way in. Wasea in the next room was every bit as intimidating as Samara had been, though in a flashier way. Her bright red face paint glowed, clearly visible even from across the room. "Things have gone to hell since we smuggled that filthy creature off world," she told us, eyes never leaving her datapad. Clearly, our presence was of little concern. "First the justicar and now you. At least I'll get to take pleasure in turning your head into a PULPY MESS!"

She set down her drink of water and chucked another crate of poison across the room as hard as she could. I dove out of the way, but it smashed against the door frame and exploded, releasing a mist of toxic fumes. It was all I could do to crawl clear. Still choking, I decided that Shepard and Garrus were probably on their own with Wasea so I hid behind a few crates, pulled out my sniper rifle, and set about taking out the squad that was coming into the room for backup.

One.

Two.

Three of them fell. I don't remember much after that except Shepard pulling me free of another cloud of gas and declaring that the battle was over. "Deep breaths, now. That should be the last of them. I'm going to get what we came for."

"Here it is, Shepard." Garrus called as Shepard propped me up against some crates. "A ship called the AML Demeter. This must be what Samara is looking for. We should get back to the security office and tell her what we've found."

"And we have a few things for Anaya too. Let's just give Alpha a minute."

But I shook my head, dizzy as the action made me. "If we wait, more of them will come back. We should go." I blinked several times to keep my eyes focused while hacking into Nos Astra's planning and zoning records until I found an elevator. "Over there. We should take that down to the main level. Looks like that floor's for dock workers and should be safer than going back the way we came."


	9. Cold Comfort

_**Chapter 9: Cold Comfort**_

_Chakwas' POV_

I sighed heavily as I entered the Medical Bay, watching as my most recent patient scanned through an entire wall of holoscreens. "Alpha, what are you doing? You're supposed to be resting."

The tiny blonde moved a few of her windows to throw me a glance, as if checking to see exactly how angry I was. "I'm not leaving the bed," she tried to justify.

"But this isn't resting. Your left leg was almost blown in half!" Stress was the worst thing for a wound and I brought my hand to my forehead in frustration, reflecting momentarily on the odd feeling of not wearing gloves. They should be about done in the biohazard wash after the skin grafting, now that I thought about it. "No more working. You didn't come to me for your other injuries, so you were already going to be stuck here even longer. At least 24 more hours of complete bed rest and three days of light duty, I told you that when Garrus carried you in here over his shoulder nearly unconscious."

She flinched in embarrassment, but said nothing until I began to close her screens. "D—Doc! The Commander is on the Collector ship right now! What if they need help?" she protested.

"Then there are plenty of other crew members to help and EDI is keeping a close eye on them. Now get some sleep." Holoscreens showing Shepard, Zaeed, and Jack's helmet cameras; EDI's scans of the Collector ship; and some sort of profile on a krogan named Thax Vorak blinked out as I touched them.

Alpha sighed dramatically and threw herself back into the pillows of her cot, asleep almost immediately. I smiled. These high-strung fighters often resisted a mother-figure at first, but they all came around eventually. I was a stabilizing agent in their stressful, military lives. Even now, with Cerberus civilians, I was connecting with the crew this way.

Gently stroking the hair off of Alpha's face and rearranging the IV tube, I tried to make her as comfortable as possible. She stirred a little bit when my hand brushed her cheek, but she didn't wake. I quietly adjusted the lights to the night cycle so that she could sleep better and stepped out into the mess. "EDI, has the boarding party reported any injuries?"

The AI's response was immediate. "No, Doctor. They have yet to encounter any resistance."

"Good."

I had just enough time to be relieved before everything went dark, shouts of alarm echoing across the crew deck. The lights blinked out along with the artificial gravity, causing my body to suddenly part with the floor. I gasped, pitching forward. And then an arm snaked around my waist, steadying me. "Peace, Doctor," a calm voice stated from my immediate left. I looked up into the face of the newest member of Shepard's team, Thane. He was glowing, his biotics allowing him to manipulate gravity and maintain an upright posture. He righted me just as the Normandy flickered back to life.

I sighed in relief once more. "Thank you, Thane. You just saved me a broken nose."

"I pray that Shepard and the others are also unharmed," he responded gently, pulling me to my feet. I nodded, similarly concerned. Obviously, something big had just happened.

Just then, our resident turian raced through the mess. "Garrus!"

He gave me a brief glance, never shortening his stride. "EDI's tasked out. I'm going to the bridge to check with Joker. I'll keep you updated." With that, he jogged into the elevator, followed by Thane and recently arrived Kasumi and Samara.

But what about me? I hesitated. I could try to head for the bridge as well, but it was undoubtedly crowded enough. We would only be in Joker's way. I should be ready for Shepard, if he should return—no, _when_ he returned. Bustling back into the medical bay I set about preparing 3 stretchers, just in case. Then I rearranged and re-sterilized all of my surgical tools, which had been scattered onto the floor during the artificial gravity failure. Alpha looked remarkably untouched by the incident. She had shifted on the cot onto her side, but remained peacefully asleep. I tried to keep the lights low for her benefit, though I suspected that it hardly mattered.

"Attention crew." I straightened and rushed back out to the mess, where Joker's voice could be heard on the comms. "Attention crew. Critical and noncritical systems have been overloaded, night-cycle engineers report to your stations to assist with restoration. I say again: night-cycle engineers report to your stations to assist with critical systems restoration. Shepard's team is alright for now, but the Collector ship is powering up. Prepare for emergency FTL jump. Once the boarding party hits the hold, we're out of here. I say again: prepare for emergency FTL jump."

My chest tightened and I slumped against the wall at the news. _Not again. Please don't let it happen again_. Images of the Normandy exploding filled my vision. Only a series of deep breaths brought any comfort. Half the crew stormed past me to the maintenance ladders in the AI core, sprinting to the rescue. One of them stopped to check on me—Hadley I think—but I waved him off. "I'm fine. Go! Go save the ship!" He rubbed his hands up and down the outside of my arms a few times, a strangely comforting gesture, before relenting and following the rest of the crew.

It took me several moments to realize that I had duties to attend to also, preparing for an FTL jump, and I tried to bring them to the forefront of my mind. My legs were unsteady, but they carried me to the medical bay anyway. I snapped the protective plastic cover over the surgical tools I'd just arranged, belted the stretchers to the wall, made sure that Alpha's IV was properly secured, and helped Gardner put half full coffee mugs and old lunch plates in the dishwasher where they would be enclosed and not endanger the crew.

It was only when Joker's voice came back over the comms calling out that Shepard's team had made the shuttle and crew should make final preparations for an emergency jump that I realized there was one thing I hadn't strapped down yet: Alpha. Asleep, she'd handled the gravity change well enough, but the rough nature of an FTL jump would be something else entirely and would most certainly damage her hip even more.

"Alpha!" I shouted. If I woke her up, then she could brace herself and reduce her chance of further injury, but she didn't react at all.

"Brace for evasive maneuvers!" Joker warned, just as I reached her side. I gripped both sides of the cot firmly to prevent her from moving as the ship banked sharply. The sounds of shifting supplies echoed from every corner of the Normandy, but still, Alpha didn't wake. She merely stirred once more at the physical contact, brow furrowing.

The unconscious girl suddenly began to worry me. Heavy sleepers didn't last long on Omega. Something must be wrong with her. I needed to run brain wave scans and check vitals again. But another sharp turn by the Normandy reminded me that we had to get through this first.

My bare hands felt dirty after helping Gardner with dishes, but I suppressed the old instinct to sanitize and reached for the belts to strap my patient down with. Only, I was too late. A violent change in gravitational force threw both of us to the ground.

And then there was calm. Breathless, Joker came over the comms once more. "Emergency jump successful, crew retrieved, critical systems back on line. Hey, Wonder Twins, what the hell did you do to my propulsion system?"

I groaned a little and rubbed my side, where I'd struck the edge of the cot on my way down. That had been a much more intense jump than I'd ever experienced before. Crawling slightly, I made my way over to the information broker, who lay unmoving on the other side of the bed.

"Alpha? Alpha, wake up." She had a small cut on her forehead, but my scans showed only a minor concussion and a bit more bleeding from her hip wound. Neither of these accounted for the fact that she was _still asleep_! After all of that! Urgently, I set her up, noting the horror on her face and the way her eyes shot furiously back and forth behind her lids. "Alpha!" I tried shaking her shoulders, I even administered a small dose of adrenaline, but only when I became desperate and smacked her firmly across the face did she finally come to.

She sat straight up, gasping like a resuscitated drowning victim. Her eyes rolled for a moment until she got them completely back under control. Then, she noticed me there. For such a tiny thing, she had a grip like a vice, each hand locked onto my arms.

"It's okay," I cooed, feeling my own adrenaline returning to normal as I gently stroked her hair. "It's alright, it was just a dream."

.0

_Alpha's POV_

It wasn't a dream.

I knew that as surely as I knew my own name.

It had started off fine, flashes of faces. Each was an Alliance soldier and at the time I felt like I knew them all very well. Now that I was fully awake, however, I realized that I'd only recognized a few. There was Joker, Kaiden, and Jenkins—and, of course, Shepard. Their expressions in the mental snapshots displayed the whole spectrum of human emotion, from elation to crushing sadness. But even the most grief-stricken of the bunch raised, not sympathy, but pride. It was as if I, personally, had granted them peace.

And then everything changed.

The parade of familiar strangers ended, replaced instead by a terrible feeling of panic swimming in a riot of color. I was running and then I was watching. Watching as fire lit up the darkness of the void before me.

It was the Normandy.

Burning.

Fear stabbed into my chest, as I considered what that could mean. I wasn't psychic or anything—I hadn't had a vision in my life. I tried to grab onto that and reassure myself that it wasn't the SR2. Maybe it was the first Normandy. Maybe I was just remembering the cutscene from the game. But it didn't feel that way. It felt like I had been there. The urgency of the evacuation, the horror of the destruction, the jolt of the shockwaves. It had been too real.

"It's alright, Alpha. It was just a dream…. Just a dream…."

I realized, then, that I was gripping Doctor Chakwas' arms very tightly. I held them as if they were the only things anchoring me in this reality. Like if I let go I would drift back there to the wreckage to be incinerated along with the ship. Slowly, carefully, I loosened my fingers until she was free. But I didn't go back to the Normandy scene. I stayed here in the medical bay. A breath of relief escaped me, taking some of the tension in my muscles with it.

"Doctor," I jumped violently at EDI's voice on the comms, heart racing once more. "The boarding party is on their way for treatment. Their vital signs appear stable, though they report moderate bleeding. Also, minor injuries have been reported throughout the ship."

"Thank you, EDI."

I was suddenly aware that I was sitting on the floor, though I had no idea how I got there. Chakwas pulled me gently to my feet and helped me back onto my cot. I winced a little at a renewed pain in my hip, but settled obediently into place. She then went to fetch a pair of disposable white gloves.

"EDI, please ask Mordin to assist me in the medical bay."

"Right away."

She turned back to me and began to scan me with her omni-tool some more before nodding to herself and reaching behind my bed. "Your injuries are minor, I'll just need to put a little ointment on that cut on your forehead and check your bandages. But I am more concerned about that dream you were having. I had such difficulty pulling you out of it…. I'd like to run tests on your brain wave activity for the next hour," she explained, taping wires to each of my temples and carefully arranging them over my shoulders. "Try to move as little as possib—"

"Another one for you, Doctor Chakwas!" We both looked toward the door to see Shepard hauling Zaeed in with a large chunk of scrap metal protruding from his right calf. Jack sulked in after them, watching unhelpfully as the doctor directed the guys to the cot next to mine. She immediately began ministrations.

"Looks like mostly muscle damage from walking on it too much. For injuries like this, Shepard, call for a stretcher." He dipped his head in acknowledgement, though he was clearly too tired to feel properly apologetic. "He'll be off his feet for at least the next few days, but there's no reason we can't expect a full recovery. Ah, Dr. Solus."

Mordin stepped into the lab then and nodded a greeting, brushing past Jack. "Dr. Chakwas, how can I help?"

"EDI says that several crew members have sustained minor injuries from the emergency FTL jump," she told him as she fetched what looked like an oxygen mask from a cabinet. "Would you mind caring for them while I see to Mr. Massani?"

"Not at all," he told her with a smile. He looked relieved that he wasn't here for serious injuries to Shepard's team.

"Alright, Zaeed. I'm going to give you a sedative until I can remove the shrapnel and disinfect the wound. Deep breaths, now." She fixed the mask over his face and leaned him back until he was laying all the way down. He didn't follow her instructions about his breathing, choosing instead to swear defiantly, but the gas put him out after just a few seconds anyway.

The banged up crew that EDI mentioned weren't far behind, spilling out of the elevator like a small zombie army. They clutched swollen bumps on their heads and bloody gashes on their arms and sides, though they were all looking more gratefully than angrily at Ken as he appeared with his dislocated shoulder. I knew that we would have gotten out of there with or without the speed improvement, so I was feeling a little guilty for my part, but the rest of those on board the Normandy believed that the close call could not possibly have been closer. And injured was preferable to dead.

Still, despite overwhelming numbers Mordin dismissed them quickly. A little medigel here, a splint there. He kept only three people whose head wounds were severe enough to warrant observation, enlisting Gardner's help to guide the rest of them back to bunks when necessary for a mandatory rest period. And when the doctors were finished, both turned to Shepard.

He wilted slightly as they condemned him for sticking around with the wounded when he was so severely dehydrated and exhausted. I smiled a bit as he was sent to his room like a grounded child. If he'd had the energy, I suspect he may have argued the point, but he looked rather relieved and now that he knew the ship and crew were alright he felt no guilt about returning to his cabin to recover.

.0

"Time's up!" I exclaimed, slipping out of the cot. My shout caused Doctor Chakwas to jump, but she just smiled at my excitement.

"That's right, Alpha. You're no longer restricted to bedrest. But please, try not to disturb Zaeed."

I grinned at the merc, receiving only a glare in return. He'd been just about to fall asleep following a long afternoon of energetic cursing and complaining. He really hated being holed up here. "Only 15 more hours for you, my friend." His reply was not for the faint of heart but I just laughed and half bolted for the door.

"Alpha…."

I froze, looking mournfully at freedom before throwing a highly reluctant glance back over my shoulder. "Yeah, Doc?"

She stood and examined the data on her omni-tool again, a troubled expression flashing over her face. "Your hip appears to be healing fine, but I'm still concerned about the unusual beta waves you exhibited yesterday during my scans. It's so strange… but they're remarkably similar to what the Commander experienced after being exposed to a Prothean beacon, only I have no idea what triggered this in you…." I frowned uncertainly, but she just shook her head. "I'm going to have a chat with Shepard about this. Perhaps he can shed some light on the situation."

The news was definitely concerning and I was going to be doing some major digging later, but at the moment I was too antsy to care. "So can I…?"

An amused smile returned to Chakwas' face. "Yes, go be free."

I made tracks, not waiting for her to change her mind, but Zaeed's voice followed me into the hallway. "Get the fuck back here, Alpha! TAKE ME WITH YOU, GODDAMMIT!"

Laughing hardily, I slipped into the elevator and headed for my spot in the cargo bay. I wanted to move and I wanted to do my work. While under Chakwas' care, my omni-tool usage was restricted and I now had a large amount of data that needed analyzing and a couple dozen or so messages to read. It was only in times like this that I realized just how busy information broking was keeping me. It was almost too much. And that wasn't even mentioning the additions Mordin had made to the Collector report that needed reading!

The elevator doors opened much sooner than expected and I noticed immediately that there was an uncharacteristic lack of light filtering in from the bay. Glancing up, I found that I was not, in fact, in the cargo bay. The elevator had made another stop at the Engineering deck, and there was an irritable looking Krogan waiting to welcome me.

"Human, I require sustenance," he snarled, face contorting unpleasantly. "You will take me to the place where I may find food."

"I require a 'please'," I responded, before I had the chance to stop myself.

He didn't look amused, leaning down to put his very large face directly in front of mine. "What?"

_I could fight a Krogan right now_, I thought, dropping my omni-tool and placing a hand on my uninjured hip. It was maybe stupid to volunteer for that, but my muscles screamed for action and I found myself acutely missing Lenny's Combat Gym. There was always a good workout to be had there. "I said: I require you to say 'please'." His pale blue eyes narrowed dangerously, but I continued, feeling a welcome surge of adrenaline. "My assistance isn't free, ask anyone. I trade for credits or favors, and seeing as how you've only been awake for a little over 11 hours, I'm guessing you haven't had the chance to get your hands on credits."

"You speak very boldly for a human who smells of fresh wounds," he noted, amusement pulling at his reptilian lips.

"Do you want to fulfill my favor, or would you rather starve?"

The humor fled his face as quickly as it had come. "I am pure Krogan. I could crush you like an insect. You should be in awe of my power."

I shrugged, smirking and returning to my omni-tool. "Suit yourself. Later, Grunt." He reacted to the dismissal by smashing a fist into the closing elevator doors and driving them back open. And then he moved to attack. It was just a broad shoulder sweep, which would have worked against most people. But that old turian had given me plenty of sparring experience and taught me all the tricks, including pressure points that would inhibit Krogan blood-rage. I used one, ducking the shoulder and driving the second knuckle of my first 2 fingers up under his jaw.

He wasn't sure how to react at first and blindly swung an arm, more to open the distance between us than to do damage. I watched him hesitate, shaking his great head as though he were trying to get a spider off of his nose, but I knew that he was trying to retrieve the fire that fuelled his fights. "How did you know my name, little human?"

I gave him my best Cheshire grin. "Information is my game, Sweetie. Now, I'm no tank-bred Krogan legacy, but I'm no slacker either. Like I said, credits or favors. I'm not going to play tour guide for free."

"And I will not express weakness to the likes of you, little human."

I frowned a little bit. This was much less fun than I'd hoped. Perhaps Shepard was right, maybe Grunt was too animalistic to be an effective member of the team. "I'm not asking for submission, just respect. And it's no weakness to show respect to your allies."

He straightened, considering this. "Do you deserve my respect?"

"Do you want me to prove it by hitting you again?" Normally, a line like that would be full of sarcasm, but not this time. A fist fight may be what it took to win Grunt over.

"Name the greatest enemy you have slain," he challenged.

I nodded and thought it over. "The greatest enemy I've slain..." Several deaths on Omega fluttered though my mind. I'd been forced to kill a lot of people there. But the one that Grunt would like the most would probably be my first kill. I discreetly disabled all of EDI's cameras and terminals that might be in earshot before presenting my description. "A Krogan mercenary named Weyrloc Drunn attempted to kill me in order to unleash a plague on the turians of Omega. I had no weapon, so I put a piece of garbage into his skull and then showed him how to properly use his shotgun."

I expected that the plague part wouldn't stick. I was wrong.

"So that is why you wear the paint, little human. Because you are infected with a turian disease."

"Not anymore," I said firmly, wondering if this story was going to bite me in the butt someday soon. "The paint just won't come off."

"It lingers like a scar. It is too bad that it did not come from battle. Still, it was a good fight and you have slayed the coward who challenges his enemies with sickness. I respect this. Please, little human, show me where I may acquire sustenance."

I blinked in surprise, but managed to recover my composure quickly and gestured for him to join me in the elevator. "Right this way, young Krogan." As the title spilled from my mouth, I suddenly understood the irony of a very young Krogan and a very old human being together at about the same level of development. Normally, they could live for 1,000 years or more.

"What is it, little human?"

"Huh?" I bobbed my head apologetically when I recognized I'd been staring. "I was just wondering how your rapid growth in your tank would affect your lifespan."

"I possess the physical maturity of a 150-year-old Krogan," he told me indifferently. "That is the age at which our muscle and bone density are strongest. I assume this means that my potential for life will be 150 years shorter than that of the average Krogan, but I am not sure."

I nodded. "You're very interesting, Grunt. Do you mind if I scan you with my omni-tool periodically to measure your development?"

A blue eye studied me for a moment before responding. "For 100 credits." I promptly burst out laughing, causing him to give an indignant growl. "It is fair. I seek no favor in return, just currency."

"Yes, Grunt. It's more than fair," I assured him, doing my best to explain. "I'm just surprised sometimes when other people react the way that I would. I didn't think we were so similar. Here," I pulled out one of my standard shopping chits, which contained 500 credits. "This should cover the first 5 scans. One a week should do, if that's alright?"

He nodded firmly and turned to face me, staying as still as possible while the orange rays of light shot from my omni-tool and moved the length of his body. By the time the doors of the elevator opened, I was finished. I showed him a small pocket in his armor to store his new funds and then led him through the mess.

Gardner paled when he saw the new team member approaching, but ample food and a brutally honest demeanor soon had the two of them hitting it off unexpectedly well.

"I'll see you later, Grunt," I called, leaving them to their discussion of Krogan delicacies and once more setting out for the cargo hold. I was skirting the XO's office, where Miranda could be heard pacing anxiously, when I ran straight into Garrus. "Hey."

He gave me a small smile, blue eyes squinting. "Hey, I see you're up and about again. I figured you'd be in the furthest corner of the ship by now," he joked.

I laughed back. "Yeah, well, I got a bit diverted." His face gave a brief twitch of surprise when I motioned to Grunt and Gardner in the mess. "Anyway, what you up to?"

There was a pause as he processed Shepard's recklessness in releasing the krogan before he managed to find his voice again. "Just…taking a break. I've calibrated the main gun as much as possible since the FTL jump and was spending a little time in the cockpit talking to Joker, but he and EDI are bickering again."

"I see…." An idea occurred to me when he mentioned the cannon. I hadn't played through Mass Effect 3, but I knew about the ending and hated it. The only chance we had at saved both Shepard and EDI was finding a way to destroy the Reapers without using the Crucifix. And that meant a really big gun. Nobody knew a ship's cannon like Garrus did. I would need to generate some ideas. "Hey, do you know if there is any more power we can give the Normandy's guns?"

A flash of disappointment passed over his face, as if he had been hoping for me to ask him something else, but I could see nothing in his appearance or demeanor to suggest anything specific so I let it drop and he smothered the emotion quickly. "Well, I got word of a pretty good upgrade called the Thanix about a month ago. I could make a call, but it would be pretty tough on our resources. I'll get the schematics and talk to Shepard."

My mind went blank for half a second. Absolutely blank. We didn't have the Thanix yet. Forcing a smile, I tried to shift casually. "Yeah, you should totally talk to Shepard. We're picking up a lot of resources from these planets we keep stopping at. But, I should go. I have a lot of work to catch up on, now that Drill Sergeant Chakwas isn't glaring over at me."

He nodded and shifted again, as if he wanted to say something, so I paused, but the silence went on. Eventually, he gave an uncertain little wave, turning back to head for his workstation. I frowned. Was this about Sidonis? Was he already getting word from his sources on the Citadel? We hadn't even done Miranda's loyalty mission yet!

But most importantly, we didn't have the Thanix. That meant that Shepard wasn't asking the crew about potential upgrades to help the ship. Damnit, half the crew would be dead before we even made the Collector Base if he didn't get a move on. This would need to be addressed. Where was he? The answer: asleep in his cabin. He deserved a rest and he could have it for now. Besides, other emergencies awaited.

There were a few crew members taking inventory in the hold, but it was quiet and still relatively empty and I set up shop. I turned on the bug from the cockpit and another from Bailey's desk on the Citadel. The dull roar was welcome background noise and I half-listened while opening up my email.

Inbox:

_**Jack:**__ Alpha RE: Teltin Facility_

_**1657625489:**__ Alpha RE: my brother is missing_

_**4526784582:**__ Alpha RE: stolen shipment of red sand_

_**Loren:**__ Casey RE: I cannot accept these credits._

_**1245634647:**__ Alpha RE: mercs after me_

_**Barra:**__ Casey RE: Research Update_

_**6542015338:**__ Alpha RE: Marketing on Omega_

_**4315563566:**__ Alpha RE: slavers took daughter please help_

_**3455575621:**__ Alpha RE: Secret Assault Rifle Mod_

_**Aria:**__ Alpha RE: Stay off my station_

_**Thax:**__ Alpha RE: Thank You for Your Assistance_

…

The list went on forever, but I went through them pretty quickly. Aria's message was just a bunch of threats and while I commended her for figuring out that I'd left Omega, it was rather unimportant. I dismissed it, along with the Assault Rifle Mod message, which was about stealing a flashy thermal scope design that was selling inexplicably well, and the Red Sand message. I had no intention of helping smugglers—especially not the one that had accidentally unleashed a family of Pyjaks on Omega last year. It had taken forever to get rid of them. The ads that followed were similarly liberated from my inbox.

Thax's message was a brief, professional thank you letter. It said very little, but I was still looking into the sketchy krogan businessman operating on the Citadel, so I put it in his file.

Jack was asking for help finding her Teltin Facility, the coordinates of which turned out to be difficult to locate in the Cerberus files she was given. I put her on my To-Do list, hoping to prevent a total meltdown.

Loren was feeling guilty about the 2 million credits I'd given him before I left. Apparently, 150,000 had been all it took to replace everything in the shop and renovate. Now, he was left with 1.85 mil and unable to bring himself to spend it. An idea occurred to me while reading it and I asked him to put his tech expertise and spacefaring experience into practice by making a new ship mounted cannon—one that could stand up to the 'geth' mega cruiser that attacked the Citadel.

Barra was just getting started on the research, despite me trying to plan ahead. He'd gone over the data I'd provided him and admitted that, at first, he believed I was trying to goad him into some shady genetic research. However, when I sent him scans I'd discreetly taken of Thane when he came aboard two days ago, he started to believe me. Apparently, the drell's condition was extremely poor and there was no indication that he was taking the already existing treatments he should be. Barra was ordering a shipment of the medication and would have it delivered to the Normandy the next time we docked at Illium. The news about lack of progress was frustrating, but the salarian seemed genuinely motivated now and that would have to be enough.

That left the missing brother and daughter. I had a strong suspicion that they may be connected. However, the person whose daughter was kidnapped was barely literate, so the email made little sense. Fortunately, the turian who emailed about his brother was much easier to understand. A name—a familiar one—and last known location were provided.

My cameras and sensors were still running strong, even without my preventative maintenance, and my hidden router was giving the promised strong connection to the FTL Comm Buoy, so I was able to search camera footage. A little research into the client and victim revealed pictures attached to small time criminal records, and I found Mr. Jorran Kryik in the crowd easily enough.

They were at that café I sent Mardus and his wife to during the plague. He sat with a krogan and another turian, nibbling on a cake of some sort. They parted ways quickly enough and I followed his scanner trail, checking the cameras occasionally to look for spotters. Sure enough, when he turned down a quiet alley between the upper and lower end markets there was a batarian who kicked up from the wall nearby and passed in front of the mouth of the alley, glancing at Jorran's retreating back before making a call on his omni-tool.

My cameras only caught flashes of the shadows of two krogan intercepting him. There was a brief struggle before a door I didn't know existed opened in the wall. I frowned and froze the video, changing cameras.

I still couldn't see the krogan's faces, but I got an exact location of the door by having my VI measure the distance from the alley opening and had her put it on a list of things to do the next time that I was on Omega. After that, Mr. Kryik didn't cross any more sensors. Considering that I had the docking areas thoroughly locked down, that suggested he was being held in that space until the ship was ready to depart. And this secret room…that was the mark of someone who knew the area. Someone who had done this before.

The desire to go check it out clawed at my stomach, causing me to pace furiously. I missed being hands on. I missed…I missed Omega. It was a horrible place filled with the scum of the galaxy, but it was the closest thing I'd had to a home since waking up. And someone was pulling one over on me. They were there and I wasn't. The knowledge burned in my chest.

I wasn't there, so who was? Normally, I'd call Archangel to clear out the roaches or do it myself, but those were no longer options. I needed some muscle. I needed mercs. The good news? Mr. Kryik's brother was a merc. Of course he was. None of Nihlus' relatives would be helpless in a fight. If he could find a little help, he could free his brother and perhaps the girl.

I wished I had a name for her, but the only thing her mother said was that she was 8-years-old. In the end, I paced and listened to my bugs, watching the holoscreen fast forward through the last week of footage. The slavers' activity in the area began three days ago. They were rather selective, which was fortunate because it would take that much longer to fill their ship. "Not so fast, AI. I need to be able to see when that door opens," I instructed. The video slowed.

"You still haven't named your VI yet?" I jumped a little.

"VI, pause video." I glanced around a moment before realizing that the Normandy's pilot was talking to me through the ship's communication systems. I smiled and, using my own surveillance systems, discovered which camera he was using. I turned that way and called out, "Not yet, Joker. What are you up to?"

"Not much, just trying not to get any more pissed off. Garrus abandoned me the second this thing started talking." I nodded, hearing the bite in his voice. "But, more importantly, what are _you_ doing?"

"Trying to track down two people who were taken by slavers on Omega."

"Well that sounds depressing. Having any luck?"

I nodded. "I found one of them, and he appears to be on Omega still. Once I confirm that the little girl is there, I'll send the info and hope that Mr. Kryik's mercenary friends are willing to risk their necks to—"

"Wait, Kryik?"

I nodded again, trying to look ignorant of the connection. "Jarron Kryik is the name of the victim. A turian in his early 20s."

"I think I knew a family member of his. A Spectre, killed in action." He heaved a sigh. "So what are you gonna do to get him out of there?"

I tried to speak more gently, and to sound more sure than I felt. If Shepard knew, he may try to launch the assault on the slaver base himself. Nihlus died on his mission and, knowing the Commander, he'd likely felt he owed it to the turian. But the mission couldn't really stand for any more distractions. The Kryiks were on their own this time. "Jarron's brother is part of the new Blue Suns crew that rolled into Omega after Archangel's disappearance. They should be able to handle it."

"Okay," he replied uncertainly. After another brief pause, he cleared his throat and changed the topic. "Anyway, if that VI is helping you, you should really give it a name."

I hesitated. "Isn't that a little…I don't know, childish?"

"Naming a Virtual Intelligence is a cultural tradition based upon the desire to personify a computer that has assumed the role of an organic. It is paradoxical, considering that organics become alarmed by synthetics that have attained sentience."

"Nobody was talking to you, EDI!" Joker immediately snarled into the comms. The AI went silent. "But seriously, Alpha, you have to give it a name."

"Oh, alright." I sighed and considered the omni-tool on my wrist. Cell phones sure had come a long way…. A light bulb flickered on. "VI, from now on, respond to the name 'Siri'."

"I will respond," it droned. The voice was way different, but I thought that the name fit all the same.

"Siri?" Joker asked.

"Yeah." I nodded slowly, thinking of home. Back in my warm bed, my husband's arm around me and my dog curled up on my feet. The memory brought on a chill. The future was a cold, dark place. "It's an old name…"

Joker made a humming sound, understanding what I meant by 'old'. "Have you…have you talked to Shepard? About that thing?"

"Not yet." My response was immediate and perhaps a little abrupt, but I really didn't want to talk about it right now. "Anyway, I should probably get back to the slavers. I'll talk to you later, Joker."

"Right, later then," he mumbled apologetically.

I returned my eyes to the holoscreen that waited. "Siri, play the footage again at the same pace as before."


	10. Out in the Cold

**A/N: Hey guys, sorry about that mix-up last chapter. Thanks to V-rcingetorix for picking up on my stupid mistake :P**

_**Chapter 10: Out in the Cold  
**_

_Tali's POV_

It was so different.

Not just the Normandy or the crew, but Shepard as well. Not that I didn't trust him whole-heartedly, especially after he charged through a Collossus for me on Haestrom, but there was something decidedly strange about him now.

It was his eyes, I decided. There was a war going on inside them. Clearly, he didn't need me to tell him that Cerberus couldn't be trusted. And yet, at the same time, he knew that they were right about the Collectors. He was in a difficult place and it was eating away at him. Now, he was finally starting to find people he could trust, but he still walked more stiffly than before, as if expecting a knife in his back at any moment.

Shepard would do what was right—I believed in him—but I'd be damned if I took orders from Cerberus, and I wanted them to know that. Jacob looked nice enough, but didn't they all? And EDI…I didn't even know where to start. An_ AI_! A bloody _AI_! What were they thinking?

The rest of his team was little better. A bunch of criminals and terrorists with menacing glares and vicious natures. Only Garrus and Samara had ever been on the right side of the law, though the asari followed a foreign code that left no room for mercy. Overall, I was hoping that their loyalty to Shepard would prevent them from using their skills against me or the fleet. Keela, what had I dragged the Quarians into?

I sighed, taking a break from the talkative engineers and looking out into the cargo hold. One of the Commander's new team was there, the information broker he'd dredged up on Omega. I hoped she was as good as he said, because I'd certainly never heard of her and she was positively tiny. If I didn't know better, I would have assumed she was a child. Right now she was immersed in a large holoscreen displaying security camera footage, watching tensely. Waiting.

The screen was still for a long moment before a large group exited some sort of door. She seemed to sag in relief. So this was some kind of operation. Information broker indeed. As I watched, she zoomed in on a turian carrying a human child. The girl was filthy, covered in muck with sores around her tiny wrists and ankles and tearstains tracking through the dirt on her face. She pointed, directing the turian out of sight of the camera. Immediately, the blonde woman summoned more camera footage to track their movements across what had to be the notorious station of Omega until suddenly the girl sprang from the turian's grasp and flew into the waiting arms of a young woman.

Alpha, if I remembered the name right, dropped right onto her back, closing the screens, and took a deep breath. Whatever had just happened appeared to have ended well. And if it returned a little girl to her mother, the information broker couldn't be that bad. I decided that, although I didn't trust her, at least she wasn't Cerberus.

And then she pulled up another video. It was Jacob in the armory. The screen fast forwarded through hours and hours of video until Shepard appeared. She listened intently until the Commander left and then forwarded though another two days' worth of video until he stopped to talk again. I pushed away from the glass, disgusted. Either Shepard's new friend didn't trust him with Cerberus, or she was betraying us all. I needed a word with the Commander.

I summoned the elevator urgently but stepped back when the doors slid open with a whoosh of air. "Shepard! Speak of the devil!"

"Hey, Tali. Something wrong?" He frowned at me in confusion and invited me to join him. I did so quickly.

"It's about the information broker. She's spying on you."

"Oh, yeah." He nodded knowingly. "She does that to everyone."

I gawked. He knew…and did nothing? "She was looking at video footage of you talking to Jacob!"

"She's probably watching us right now." He shrugged indifferently. "Alpha is a little bit paranoid is all."

"And what if she's working for the Collectors?"

"It's always possible, but I don't think so."

I growled, folding my arms. "You can't run on a gut feeling like this, Commander. She could do a lot of damage to our mission!"

"It's not my gut feeling, Tali," he said gently, placing a hand on my elbow comfortingly. A surge of warmth raced across my skin at the contact, despite the suit. "She told Garrus and Joker something. Something that made them trust her. And Garrus doesn't trust easily anymore." He sighed heavily. "She isn't quite sure about me yet, so she watches closely, but I'm trying and I think she is too."

Just then, the doors opened to the hold and I sputtered a little in surprise, causing the human girl to glance over her shoulder. He'd been going to see the very person we'd just been talking about! "Hey Shepard. And Tali'Zorah vas Neema. Nice to meet you." She hid all of her screens so that she could give us her full attention. I stiffened. We'd never been introduced. So she was spying on me too.

"Hello, Alpha. Just wanted to ask you a question quick." The Commander approached and stopped in front of her.

"Shoot," she ordered, stepping backward a little. If I didn't know better, I'd say that he was testing her personal space on purpose. It may be why she was having trouble being comfortable with him.

"Joker said you were looking into a matter involving a turian named Jarron Kryik."

"As in Nihlus Kryik?" I asked before I could help myself.

She nodded, and began working with her omni tool once more. "Joker mentioned that Nihlus was a friend of yours, so I looked into it. Jarron is his nephew."

"I'd like to help him out."

"I thought you might," she said with the voice of someone who was about to scold him. "That's why I made sure the issue was resolved today, before you could ask. He was taken two days ago by slavers, along with a handful of others. But Jarron's brother is a member of the Blue Suns and they raided the slavers' hidey-hole just a few minutes ago."

A picture popped up in Shepard's face, probably her revenge for standing too close, and he obligingly took a step back so that he could see the two turians exiting an alleyway. One was supporting the other, who looked a little worse for wear. Although his clothes were in tatters and bright blue blood stained his face, he looked incredibly relieved.

"They have the same pattern," I noted quietly. Both of them gave me a confused look. "Their face paint, it's the same basic pattern that Nihlus wore in the pictures you showed me, with some small differences." I looked at the black marks that criss-crossed Alpha's face then, trying to remember if I'd seen any of it anywhere else, but I couldn't place it. It was uniquely curved, where turians tended to prefer sharper angles. Strange.

"You okay?" she asked when I continued to stare hard at her.

I tilted my head, not answering right away. "Your paint is definitely turian, but it doesn't look familiar. Where'd you get it?"

She gave a hesitant smile. "I don't really want to talk about it."

Shepard laughed a little. "We've tried a few times, Tali. The crew is convinced that her turian lover was murdered and that she went to Omega to hunt down his killer, but she won't say."

"Then why not just lie? Information brokers do that all the time."

The challenge was a reference to Fist and was supposed to upset her, but her answer was so unexpected that it made me falter. "I don't want to. And I promised Shepard no half-truths either. In fact, I'd rather not mention it at all."

"Are you ever going to give us the story?" Shepard asked, almost pained by frustration but trying to be polite.

She scoffed. "Trust me, my big mouth has done more than enough damage already."

I shifted, uncertain exactly what to think of this Alpha character.

0.

_Alpha's POV_

"Hip healed just fine. Mission ready. Growth medium working. 3 centimeters already! Still much growing to do. 20 more centimeters to be within normal height range. Probably too little too late. Will gain 10 more at most. Need vitamin supplement to support bone density and prevent tissue from stretching. Still concerned about brain wave activity. Any more strange dreams?"

I smiled as Mordin bounced around his lab table like the hamster that Kelly always suspected he would be. "No, no more dreams."

"Very well. Report immediately if occurs again. Add these to pill regimen. Once daily."

I accepted the small bottle and was promptly shooed out of the lab. The salarian was still suspicious about the origins of my 'archaic' medical care and strange connection to Barra, but after speaking with Shepard he was stifling his curiosity as well as could be expected and forcing himself to do only the necessary procedures.

Now that Mordin had released me I was free to go on missions again, but Shepard was already on Illium with Miranda and Tali so I'd have to wait my turn. Speaking of Illium…. "Hey, EDI. Was a package delivered to the Normandy since docking?"

"Three packages have come aboard, and one of them was addressed to 'Casey'."

So Barra was on top of things, then. "Perfect. Where is it?"

"I have it here, Alpha," Kelly said with a smile. She reached under her workstation and produced a neatly wrapped brown package with 'fragile' written in bright red across the top. "Sounds pretty delicate," she remarked.

"It is. EDI, did Thane take shore leave, or is he still here?"

"Still here." The voice seemed to croak as Thane and Samara emerged from the elevator. "What do you require of me?"

I blinked in surprise and then shrugged. They were obviously taking shore leave together, not really that unusual when you considered that the Justicar shared his calm demeanor and meditative aura. They likely got along rather well. I carefully removed the wrappings and opened my package. There was a note inside from the pharmacist, instructing that shots were to be administered every three days. And in the bottom of the package were about a dozen small vials and a syringe. "Here," I inserted the vial into the syringe and held it out to him.

The drell sighed heavily. "This is the purpose of the scan you took the other day."

"Yes."

"What is it?" Kelly asked curiously, staring at my outstretched hand.

Reluctantly, Thane accepted the medication and stuck himself in the arm. "It is a treatment for my Kepral's Syndrome. It is very expensive and rather difficult to get a hold of." I waited and held out the box when he was finished so that he could return the syringe.

"My friend said that you weren't taking it like you should be. I'll leave this with Doctor Chakwas so that she can keep an eye on you."

"Your generosity is appreciated," Samara told me quietly. "We will need our entire team in top physical condition if we intend to succeed."

"But you were an assassin, Thane. Surely you could have afforded the medicine yourself?" Kelly insisted.

He turned away slightly, so as not to look her in the eye when he spoke next. "Many drell refuse the treatment, particularly in the later stages. The disease can be painful, and we have no desire to extend our lives when our bodies and souls are in such disharmony."

I winced sympathetically. "But we have work to do Thane. We need you here. And if we all get out of this…. If we all come back, then I will accept whatever decision you make," I promised solemnly. He placed a cool hand over my gloved one in thanks and then accompanied Samara to the airlock.

"How sad," Kelly mumbled. "It's like he's completely given up."

I set my expression and sent up a prayer for Barra. "Maybe he has, but I haven't."

The red-head's eyes narrowed. "Your friend wasn't just evaluating Thane's condition, was he?"

"Thane may not accept a treatment, but I'm hoping he'll accept a cure." We locked eyes for a moment before I headed down to the medical bay.

.0

When Shepard returned from Miranda's loyalty mission and finding Liara, he looked a little worse for wear and there was a tension that sparked between him and our surprise asari guest. Liara seemed not to notice and wasted no time before roaming around and gazing critically at the new Normandy, causing her crew to shift uncomfortably. If Shepard had romanced her in the fight against Saren, they gave no indication. All talk was strictly business.

I hid as thoroughly as possible the next day, but the Commander favored allowing her to glare at me, rather than enduring the unusual distance between them. Which was why she was currently sitting across from me in the mess, evaluating the way that I ate my sandwich.

Luckily, I was saved by an outcry coming from Miranda's office. I regretted that it was partially my fault, but the situation it got me _out_ of almost made it worth it. Jack stood, waving her datapad impatiently and swearing at the XO. Right, the Teltin Facility. That was supposed to be tomorrow's big project.

"Whatever, Cerberus bitch! Don't fuck with me! There's no fucking way that you would have all of this shit about that fucking lab in here without putting the coordinates!"

"It's simple operational security," Miranda argued firmly. "The Illusive Man is the only one outside of the team on site that has the location of Cerberus facilities. You have the reports, why do you need the coordinates?"

"Because I'm going to blow the Teltin Facility sky-fucking-high! I want those coordinates!"

"Why not ask your resident information broker?" I closed my eyes as Liara's smooth, detached voice cut through the argument.

There was momentary silence and I sighed. She wanted to see my methods. She wanted to know for sure that I wasn't the Shadow Broker. Well, fine. "I was going to do that tomorrow, but I'll take a stab at it right now, Jack."

"About god damn time," she growled.

"Tell me about this 'Teltin Facility'."

She dropped into my chair and crossed her arms, fixing me with a threatening glare. "It's a Cerberus lab where they studied biotic kids. It was closed down when I escaped eight years ago."

"Eight years…" I sighed. I couldn't even pretend to use sources, not with Garrus leaning casually against that cryo pod, drawn away from his calibrations by the shouting. Me and my big mouth. "Guess we do this the hard way. Did you have to wear any protective equipment when you went outside? A breather or anything?"

"We didn't go outside!" She snarled aggressively.

I put my hands on my hips, taking a firmer stance with the irritable biotic. "You escaped, didn't you?"

She kept the scowl, but gave in, admitting: "I didn't need anything. I blasted the door off and ran to the shuttle."

"Alright, Siri. Project me a galaxy map. Hide all suns. Hide all planets that require artificial atmosphere. Hide all planets with heat, cold, or pressure hazards."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," she growled, rolling her eyes. "I thought you were an information broker?"

"This is what we do, Jack," I growled right back. "You either do this, or you pay someone else to do this. Isn't that right, Liara?" The asari nodded, never taking her eyes off of the projection. "Siri, hide all planets past the Perseus Veil. Jack, were you in Citadel Space, the Terminus, or the Traverse?"

"Terminus."

"Siri, hide all planets in Citadel Space and the Attican Traverse. How many planets are left?"

"There are 482 planets unhidden."

"What else can you tell me about the planet? I'm guessing it wasn't highly populated?"

"No," she scoffed. "The plants choked out anyone else who tried to build there."

"Siri, hide all planets with major settlements. Hide all desert planets. How many planets remain?"

"73 planets remain."

"Any other details you can remember, Jack?" She snarled something explicit, so I tuned her out and paced, trying to think of one more thing to narrow it down. Surely the plants were significant enough, if only I could come up with a way to word it…. "Siri, hide all planets with an atmospheric nitrogen level lower than that of Earth. How many planets remain?"

"24 planets remain."

"Good enough. Siri, compile the names of the remaining planets into a list. Then search the Alliance website for a description of the planet and get me five pictures off of the extranet for each." The VI obediently brought the screen right up in front of me and I sorted through each individually, narrowing them down further still. I was relieved to see that Pragia was still on my list and that I hadn't made a mistake with the Nitrogen levels thing. "68 percent mountainous…no…80 percent ocean…no…73 percent magma…no…giant killer bees?" I glanced at Jack for this last one and she shook her head. After a few more minutes of reading to myself, I settled on 4 possibilities. "Okay, let me see your Cerberus files."

"What? Why?" Jack and Miranda demanded in unison. There was a fierce glaring contest and I took the opportunity to swipe the datapad. "Hey!"

"These four remaining planets look about the same and all have aggressive plant growth. I need the files to find the one we're looking for," I explained hastily, typing each of the planet names into the pad. Predictably, a search in the operations database revealed nothing, but I had more luck elsewhere. Construction specialists were, apparently, less disciplined than operatives because the site manager slipped up in his report. "Here we go. There was a facility built on—"

"Pragia."

All eyes turned to Jack, who was studying the pictures that Siri had selected with great interest. She gave particular attention to a snapshot taken from orbit. That must have been what she saw as she floated away during her escape. Hatred smoldered in her eyes. Without a word—without even breathing—Jack turned on her heel away from the holoscreen and stormed into the elevator. Goldstein, who had been riding inside, fled, but the biotic maintained control until she was well out of sight. Only after presumably reaching her hole in engineering did the Normandy begin to shift and groan.

We all exchanged uneasy glances. "What the hell—anybody know what's going on? Joker's pissed." Suddenly, Shepard appeared from the direction of the elevator, casting an eye around the room as if expecting to see a five ton boulder rolling back and forth in the mess.

Again, everyone hesitated. I gave him an uncertain smile. "Um, you might want to talk to Jack."

He wiped a hand over his face tiredly. "Okay. Alright. Jack." Heaving a heavy sigh, he turned to head back the way we came, stopping only to throw a sideways glance back at me. "By the way Alpha, we're making a stop at Karumto to see if we can find Dr. Cayce. We'll be there in about an hour, so be ready. I'm taking you and Mordin this time."

"Right." I winced a little, remembering how I hated the Firewalker missions. I was awful with the Hammerhead. But Shepard always drove anyway, so it shouldn't be a big deal.

.0

I was wrong.

The Commander driving was a big deal.

A very big deal.

I almost thought that even I could do better, and I'd been a terrible woman driver long before vehicles left the ground. Mordin and I clung to our safety harnesses in terror as the bottom of the Hammerhead slammed into the ground over a deposit of Iridium. "Hah! Made it!" Shepard cheered triumphantly from the pilot's seat after jumping a cavern of molten lava.

"Site unstable!" the salarian pleaded. "Should focus on locating research base!"

"Just one more second!" he called back, activating the vehicle's probe. The whole thing began to buck wildly as the drill shot dirt straight up at us.

"It was nice knowing you, Mordin!" I shouted over the roar, but he didn't hear me.

The probe beeped, indicating that the iridium was secure. "Alright, got it. Let's get to that base." I clung once more to my harness for the next death defying jump. Another pocket of iridium and a crumbling tunnel followed and I really began to question Shepard's sanity. There was bravery in the face of danger, there were even adrenaline junkies, but this—this fell in the realm of 'stupid freaking idea'.

When we made it to the research base Mordin and I launched ourselves from the shuttle, relieved to be on solid ground even if that ground was in a volcano. Luckily, the old salarian was composed enough to empty the medical station on the wall before the Commander led us up the shivering ramp into the heart of the base. I had a feeling we'd be needing it later.

The air was thin and smelled horrible when the door opened to reveal a perforated metal walkway over a lava pit. "Breathers!" Shepard choked, pressing the button on the back of his armor to unfold his helmet. Mordin and I used simple glass-like breathers instead, with the unfortunate side-effect of burning eyes. Still, we followed Shepard through the smoke in the next room and into the main lab on the right.

It was much more spacious than I remembered it being in the games, with a high ceiling and an ominously beautiful view of the inside of the volcano. Office supplies were scattered from the quaking, but it was very streamlined. "Split up and search. Make it quick," the Commander ordered. We nodded back, breaking off.

On the upper deck, Mordin went through the logs and soon Dr. Cayce's voice began to haunt the abandoned lab. He was talking about Prothean ruins and the Reapers, the pitch of his voice rising with every sentence. Clearly these people were onto something big. I searched the locker on the lower level for some spare credits and scanned a computer monitor. I was in the middle of downloading another one of Dr. Cayce's logs when Shepard started pressing some buttons he shouldn't have.

Giant, house-sized boulders began to fall from above, showering sparks and splashing molten metal onto the window in front of us. The Hammerhead's VI sounded an alarm. "Activation of research base power grid has triggered additional volcanic instability. Recommend immediate departure."

"We need to go!" the Salarian shouted, motioning to the both of us and guiding us back the way we came. Unfortunately, the gases from the volcano burned his eyes and he didn't see that the floor had collapsed until he had already walked off the edge. He crashed to the lower deck, banging his head and breaking his mask.

"Mordin!" Shepard called, reaching down after him. I put a hand on his weapon mount to guide myself and help pull the disoriented doctor back up to our level. "You okay?" the Commander demanded, but Mordin was too busy coughing to answer.

"We gotta get him out of here and back to the Hammerhead!"

"How?" Shepard growled, motioning to the hole in the floor. "Our way out is blocked."

"We'll have to go around." I threw one of Mordin's arms over my shoulder and removed my mask, pressing it to his face as we made our detour through the living quarters. If Shepard was wondering how I knew about it when I could barely see, he didn't ask. I made sure Mordin had at least stopped coughing before pulling the mask back for a few deep breaths of my own. Luckily, the trip to the Hammerhead went quickly after that.

"I've got Mordin," the Commander called, wrenching the hatch open. "You get the controls."

I stiffened. "Wha—no, Shepard. I can't—" the rumbling of the volcano smothered my words, even in my own head. Support beams began to screech as they twisted in the seismic activity.

"JUST DRIVE!" he barked urgently.

"We're going to die here!" I growled back, climbing into the vehicle and jumping into the pilot seat obediently. Okay, this couldn't be that hard, right? I pressed the big, glowing red button that read 'start vehicle'. We immediately began to levitate. Behind me, the hatch closed and the ventilation system kicked on, clearing the air of toxins.

"Joker, can you hear me? We need extract! I say again, we need—damnit! No signal, Alpha. Get us out of here."

"Uh…okay. Buckle up!" The hanger doors slid open when the Hammerhead came to life and I pushed forward on the controls, guiding us out and to the left. Unfortunately, all of the other labels were either scratched out or missing entirely. Crapcrapcrap. Okay, lava pit. I needed to accelerate. Maybe these buttons on the top of the steering thing were like left and right trigger? I pressed the right one, unleashing a missile from the right side of the shuttle. Nope.

"This volcano is already exploding!" Shepard screamed from the rear.

"Well, I don't exactly have time to read the manual!" There was a big blue button right in front of me so I pressed it and we leapt into the air about 15 feet. Not the one I was looking for, but important all the same.

"It's just like a skycar! Same controls!"

"Skycars don't have missiles, Commander! How do I accelerate?"

"The petal on the floor!"

"Right, got it." I pressed on the petal and pushed the controls forward again, throwing us back into the seats and making my jump as lava began to creep up onto the plateau behind us. "Okay, I can do this." Suddenly, the wall to our left exploded and I over-corrected, sending us roughly into the opposite side of the little tunnel we were in. The force threw all of us to the floor and I clawed my way back into the pilot seat. "Maybe not."

"What the hell are you doing up there?" Shepard called, finally taking my advice and getting Mordin and himself buckled into their harnesses.

Damn, I was going to get us killed unless Shepard took over. "I told you that you didn't want me to drive!"

"I have to hold the oxygen mask, you're the only other one here!"

I pushed us forward again, jumping a ledge as carefully as possible with my newfound blue button. Still, no matter how delicately I tried to drive, I still smashed us into the roof of the tunnel. More rocks began to collapse around us. "Shepard, I have a confession to make! I haven't driven anything since cars had four wheels and ran on petroleum gasoline!"

There was a long pause as I desperately grasped at the controls, trying to jump the collapsed sections of pathway. This was ridiculous!

"So you really were cryogenically frozen then…."

I bit my lip. How? "You knew?"

"Mordin guessed…. So how long were you…how long were you frozen?"

"…169 years. I've only been awake for 2." I dodged more falling debris, heart beating even faster as the end drew near.

"Only 2 years? But you…that means you woke up on Omega! How did you survive that?"

I cursed mentally, I was so stupid! How could he possibly be thinking straight right now? "Listen, Shepard, this isn't some kind of trust exercise! I need help here!" We jumped another destroyed bridge and saw the end of our tunnel. Joker's voice suddenly burst through the comms.

"Damnit, Alpha! Accept my transmit—Alpha? I'm here at the end of the next tunnel and the cargo hold is open!"

I gasped and ceased breathing as I watched the hole in front of me collapse. But I had to go. It was the only way to reach the Normandy—the only escape—and the window was closing fast. I kept the petal to the floor, shooting us through the falling rock and over the rough ground. We caught on things sometimes, with a crunching sound and a whiplash, but I held on and kept us going.

There was blue sky and I pressed my thruster button, but even from here I could tell we weren't going to make it. My stomach went into my throat as I punched it over and over again, but we were falling. What the hell was I supposed to do? There was nothing down there to land on! I had just killed us all!

I looked down at the console, ready to press every damn button in the cabin, and found instead a lever with the words 'thru—trols . I don't know how I managed to read 'thruster controls' from that, but it was pulled down only slightly. This must be what regulated the power that went into our 15-foot jumps. I needed more power. Yanking the lever all the way back, I pressed the jump button once more and we rocketed up with amazing force, gravity smashing my face down into the steering column and breaking my nose. Eyes watering, I managed to raise my head just in time to see us crash into the roof of the cargo hold. This time I went up and out of the pilot's seat, grasping for something to hold onto as we turned around and began to freefall. The levitation boosters cushioned our impact, but I still met the floor hard and the vehicle skidded across the bay, disabled.

Distantly, I heard Garrus on the comms. "They made it Joker, get us out of here!"

I rolled onto my back, hissing in pain and clutching my head. In the rear of the Hammerhead, Shepard and Mordin sat strapped firmly into their seats. Both were pale and their eyes wide, but appeared unharmed by my adventurous flying.

"Alpha…I think we need to talk."

I gave the Commander one last, very tired, look. "How's Mordin?"

The salarian answered for himself, breathless but recovering quickly. "Still experiencing dizziness and nausea. Head pain, too. Probable concussion. Will need to see Dr. Chakwas."

There was the sound of wrenching metal as the damaged door of the Hammerhead was yanked open. It took them three pulls, but light soon flooded into the cabin, along with Garrus and a handful of crew members. "Alpha, are you okay?" the turian demanded, looking me over as if he wouldn't have believed me anyway.

"Mordin needs a stretcher," was all I could manage and he relayed the instructions urgently.

"Goldstein, get the stretcher for Dr. Solus! Can you sit up?"

"Yeah." A hand under my back helped me into an upright position and I spat blood that had been trickling down the back of my throat. "Just a broken nose for me, I think. But Mordin has a head wound and Shepard may need a change of pants…. I may need a change of pants."

He sighed in relief at that and brought up his omni-tool. "I'll just give you a shot of medi-gel."

I pushed the arm away. "Don't waste it. Besides, I want to reset my nose before it gets all crooked again."

"I can do that," he said quickly, reaching to hold the back of my head. I held as still as possible and he gave a sharp tug. There was a shriek that must have come from me, but a couple of blinks and the pain subsided.

I ran gentle fingers along the top of the appendage until I was satisfied that it was straight. "Thanks."

"No problem…. Shepard?"

"I'm fine, Garrus," he said with a hint of amusement. "Just a little whiplash. I'm taking Mordin to the Med Bay. Think you can clean this mess up?"

"Yeah, I can handle the Hammerhead."

The Commander met my eye for a split second, though I was too tired to try and figure out what it meant, and a moment later he was gone, following the stretcher. I turned back to Garrus, who was still watching me closely for signs of injury. He was kneeling very close, I noticed, and I shifted away a few inches. Heat was rising in my face, I knew, but I did my best to suppress it.

"I thought we lost you guys for a second there," he said quietly, hand still on my back.

"Y—yeah, don't _ever_ ask me to do that again." He cracked a small smile and visibly relaxed at my mood. "By the way, Joker was talking to me on the comms. How did you guys know that I was the one driving?" I frowned at my own question. We hadn't been able to get through to them at the base. They should have assumed that Shepard was our pilot.

Garrus hesitated. "Well, when you entered the research base, Shepard set the radio to send all transmissions to your earpieces and to the Normandy, so that you could use the Hammerhead's VI…. The reason _you_ couldn't hear _us_ was because you didn't have the comms set to _receive _our signal."

"…But you could hear us just fine…." He nodded. "…Everything?" Another nod. "So…how many—"

"Miranda, Jacob, Liara, and all of the crew in the CIC."

I ran my fingers through my hair and took a deep breath. Stupid! So stupid! What was I thinking? I didn't have the judgment to spare about that kind of secret. It had seemed like the thing to do, since we were all going to die anyway, but now…. Now, everyone knew that I was 170 years out of my element. "Okay. It's okay. I can…I can handle this."


	11. Tip of the Iceberg

**A/N: Hey guys. I know it's been a while and I finally heard you. Here's the next chapter. I hope I didn't force it too much, especially toward the end. I love my reviewers! Even the ones that call me a moron lol. So please review.**

.0

_**Chapter 11: Tip of the Iceberg**_

_Ken's POV_

"Look, there's just no way," I insisted.

But Gabby merely shook her head. "I don't think she was lying. I mean, _170 years_. Can you imagine?"

I sighed and turned away from my maintenance screen to face her directly. "Like I said, even if she woke up from cryo yesterday that still puts her as being frozen in 2016."

"So?"

"So the first report of successful stasis was in 2035! That's 19 years difference! Maybe she's just mistaken. It can't possibly have been that long." Gabby, however, didn't look convinced. And neither did Tali. I think the Quarian might have rolled her eyes at me, but I couldn't be sure.

"You know, not everything that happens makes it in the history books. And what about the Solar Flare of '33? Maybe the report was lost. A lot of people didn't have EMP protection on their computer systems at the time."

"Then why didn't it affect her cryo pod?" I shot back.

"You know, it's always possible that someone didn't _want_ to report their success achieving stasis." Frowning, we both turned to the woman on the other side of engineering, who continued working at her console as if nothing were happening. "She never said that she was frozen willingly. After all, cryo pods require a constant power source so she couldn't have gone unmonitored for very long. And 170 years is a long time. I can't imagine that it was done to benefit her."

I went quiet for a minute, thinking. She was right. But why would someone freeze a girl for that long? Who was responsible for doing that to Alpha? And why did they suddenly wake her up? I got the feeling that something a lot more sinister was going on.

"At any rate, if you really want to know, why don't you just ask her?"

I scoffed immediately, earning a slightly aggressive posture from Tali. "Have you tried asking her anything about herself? She gets totally defensive. She just glares at you like you've got her in crosshairs or something. And besides, I haven't seen hide nor hair of Alpha since she got out of the Hammerhead."

"Ken's right, she's totally disappeared. Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if she jumped ship to take her chances with the varren after we rescued that other Quarian," Gabby defended. "Whatever happened to her, she clearly doesn't want to talk about it. It must be pretty bad."

"Or maybe everyone she's ever trusted is fucking dead and Omega showed her what people are like nowadays." Jumping, we rounded on none other than Jack. What brought her up from the depths was beyond me, but that contemptuous glare was familiar. I averted my gaze so as not to be caught looking at her chest. Dark eyes lingered on each of us in turn before the tattooed woman strode through to the drive core. Once there, she opened the door and leaned against it to prevent it from closing on her.

I looked over to Gabby uncertainly, but she just shrugged. She didn't know what was going on either.

Then, Jack spoke up once more. "Alpha, I want you to come with me today. To Pragia."

Shit. She'd been hiding right under our noses. Had she heard us talking? There was a long pause where I started to doubt, wondering if Jack was just nuts. I mean, I didn't see anyone there. And then another small voice responded from below. "…If that's what you want."

"The shuttle leaves in two hours. I'll tell Shepard." Boots clipping across the walkway, she disappeared.

"Do you think she heard us?" I asked Gabby at a whisper, going over our conversation in my head and trying to remember if I'd said anything I'd regret. But the brunette just smacked me in the back of the head and pointed back to the stabilizer charts. Right. We still had work to do. I had time to worry about whether or not Alpha was going to kill me when I went to bed.

Sighing, I realized how odd it was that the ever-hostile Jack would request anyone for the mission to blow up the Teltin Facility. From what we understood, the place held a lot of history—bad history—for our favorite tattooed serial killer. Shepard was going, that was a given. But she must have felt some kind of connection to Alpha. And the information broker, who'd been hiding for a day and a half now, had been convinced to come out and face us. Obviously, this mysterious understanding went both ways. Whatever the girls shared, it was hard to imagine that it was anything good.

Shortly after Jack departed, Shepard appeared, nodding pleasantly to us and heading for the drive core. Now that he knew where Alpha was, he probably wanted to talk. You know, before they sauntered in somewhere that would undoubtedly upset Jack, a giant bomb in tow. He made sure that the doors closed firmly behind him, though, and despite my best efforts I could hear nothing over the dull roar of the core inside. Gabby and Tali glared disapprovingly at me, but couldn't hide their own curiosity. They kept throwing glances at the door themselves, wondering.

Between the full-grown baby Krogan, the dying assassin, and—well, all of Shepard's team—we had more than our fair share of unusual stories. I suppose if anyone could track down the galaxy's weirdest, it would be Shepard and the Illusive Man.

.0

_Alpha's POV_

"You know, you're not getting out of this."

I sighed and adjusted myself slightly in the makeshift hammock I'd created beneath the platform in the drive core. The N7 hero was looking triumphantly down at me from above, rather proud of himself. "I know, Shepard."

"There are some things we need to talk about."

"Ask your questions," I growled irritably. I was in no mood for a deep conversation right now. I just wanted everyone to leave me alone—to forget about what happened.

Shepard's expression turned a bit strained when I cut off his lead-up, but he adjusted his approach and got to the point. "Who put you in cryo, Alpha?"

I picked angrily at the fabric of the blanket my hammock was made out of and settled in for a long chat. "The United States government."

"United States…. That was a long time ago. Why did they want to freeze you?"

"I was sick."

He scowled now, irritated in his own right at my clipped responses. But I still wasn't expecting the biotics. When my body glowed blue and floated away from my hiding spot, I let out a yelp. This was totally uncalled for—so undignified! When I came up to railing level, he guided me onto the platform by my arm. Standing with both hands rested firmly on my shoulders, he looked me in the eye and asked again: "Why did they freeze you?"

There was no escaping him now. No lie I could tell, nothing I could hide from those cool grey eyes. Turning nervously away, I began to stutter. "I—Shepard, please don't make me—it's complicated and…." But he wasn't buying it. He just continued to watch me patiently until I settled down. "There are things I can't tell you, Shepard. Please understand that."

He nodded. "Then just give me what you can."

"Okay." I took a deep breath and backed away from him slightly. He let me this time, finding a comfortable spot to lean against the console. "Contrary to popular belief, the First Contact War was not humanity's first encounter with a Turian. An escape pod crash landed on Earth in 2014. Granted, the guy inside had been dead a long time, but still, there were people who knew they were out there. He crashed right next to my apartment and I went out to check it out. I didn't know what it was at the time, but I saw this body and I started to freak out."

"An escape pod with a single Turian? That's odd," he commented, spurring me on.

"Not particularly. From what I understand, a couple hundred years ago a plague went through the Turian fleet. They weren't sure how it was spreading at first so, in order to prevent infecting the rest of the crew, many of the sick gathered all of their belongings and slipped away in an escape pod. Somehow, one of them ended up in the United States. And when I went to check on him I got sick."

"…Wow. The odds of that are astronomical. Not just landing on Earth, but you getting sick from a Turian disease."

"I know," I said quietly, but all I could think was that the Illusive Man had said nearly the same thing during our conversation. "At any rate, me and four others died two weeks later. I don't know if anyone else managed to survive the cryo, though. I've looked, but haven't found any news about them since our obituary."

"But if you were just sick, why didn't they wake you up when we first started working with the Turians? They could have asked about a cure."

"The United States fell, remember?" I snarled. "2057, the world finally stopped loaning us money. We couldn't pay our military members anymore, so they all went AWOL claiming breach of contract. Our country began to collapse and then we paid our politicians just long enough for them to piss off the Russians. With no more defenses, they walked up and planted their flag and that was that. Apparently, they took possession of my cryo pod and later sold me."

"To who?" I met Shepard's gaze firmly this time before striding up and placing a single finger on the insignia on his chest. He paled. "They sold you to Cerberus."

"Who sold me to the Blood Pack on Omega when they got what was let of you." A guilty look crossed his face but I waved it off. It wasn't like it was his decision. "They were trying to get all of the Turains on the station sick. Well, joke was on them. I wasn't contagious anymore."

"Is that what the tattoos are from?"

I nodded, turning my gaze to the flashing ball of light that was the drive core. "It was a design they used to draw in black to warn people they were sick. A friend of mine added to it so that it wouldn't scare everyone off."

"I see…" he said quietly, voice trailing off as he processed what had been said. "It must have been difficult waking up on Omega after all that time."

"I managed," was my only response. He still looked curious, but seemed to sense that this was the thing I couldn't talk to him about. Instead, he turned the conversation to other things.

"So I guess when you said you were military, you meant before the freezing."

"Private First Class of the United States Army. Nice to meet you."

"Do you have a name, Private First Class?"

My heart started to pound in my chest at this question. This innocent question. It shouldn't have been important. My name wasn't going to give away what I knew about the video games. It wouldn't make me vulnerable. In fact, with no existing identity to it, it was virtually worthless. But I couldn't tell him. The words just wouldn't come out.

For some reason, it seemed _wrong_ that anybody in this universe should use it. They didn't know me. The _real_ me. The me that I was before all of this happened. Before secrets and plots and…. The names I had here were all acting roles: Casey the store clerk, Alpha the information broker, Raiza the tourist. I could be whatever the universe needed. But my real name was _me_, and I wasn't ready to give that up yet. It would bring me too far into this place. It would make me more than a character.

"Maybe another day, Shepard," I answered, leaving the drive core and marching back to my place in the hold. In reality, I didn't think he would ever know. Maybe I could use that name after the war, when I had the freedom. When the story wasn't already written. But 10:1, Shepard was dead by that time.

It was a bit sad.

.0

The mission on Pragia was long and painful. As horrible as the stories were while you were playing the game, it was nothing like watching Jack experience her old hellhole in person. I could see both anticipation and disgust in her eyes when she talked about the fights they made her participate in and the agony of listening to those recordings.

But this was the worst.

We were in her cell now and Jack was examining her old things. Her desk and bed both brought forth a deep sadness, but the window was something else. Agony and hatred. She said she used to believe that was the rest of the world out there. Other children who were so close, and yet so far away. I decided then that nothing could destroy a woman quite like hope could. I stepped up beside her and reached out to brush the glass with my fingers. It was so thin and brittle now. I could break it simply by leaning on it. But it used to be an impassable obstacle for a little girl. A window to a horrible world of evil and pain.

I didn't condone her actions—the way that she killed people and put others in danger—but you couldn't stand in this place and not understand why she did it. She'd never known anything else. She'd never seen the good in the world. Until Shepard.

Hopefully, she would get what Samesh Bhatia got: not happiness, but peace. God, if anyone needed peace, it was her.

"Okay, no more wallowing. Let's blow this place to hell."

She touched me then, on the shoulder. It was an oddly companionable gesture and I felt honored that she'd trusted me to be here. But her finger had ever so slightly skimmed the skin on the side of my neck and suddenly the world changed.

A deep grief struck me and an image. _The window was clean and well cared for. Children were lined up in rows on the other side, eyes wide and fearful as guards strode between them. Men in white coats were giving them shots. And there was a girl in this cell. Tears of rage flowed down her cheeks. No matter what awaited down there, she wanted to be with them. Together with someone. Part of the world and not shunned by it. She wanted to belong._

_Did they think they were better than her? Is that why they didn't even look her way when she screamed and cried and beat her little fists against the pane? What had she done so wrong that they would hate her this much? Well, she was going to hate them right back. She would burn with anger at them and one day they would experience the same pain that they had put her through. She would kill them. Slowly. With the same cruelty that they had showed an innocent little gi—_

"Alpha? It's here."

The image twisted painfully back to the battered old room in the present and I blinked several times until the vision cleared. It was the same feeling as being woken up in the middle of a dream, like being dragged up from the depths of the sea. But when I was fully back, I saw that the bomb had arrived. It rested now, the size of a coffee table in the middle of Jack's cell. "Right, I'll hook it up."

"You okay?" Shepard asked uncertainly, but I waved him off.

I wasn't alright, though. Somehow, I had seen Jack's childhood. I'd been sucked into her darkest memories. How was that possible? It was like that little touch had let me read her mind. It was like…. Lord, it was like Javik.

And then everything snapped into place.

It really was like Javik.

That son of a bitch.

"We're all set here, Shepard," I informed him coolly once the bomb had been activated. The trigger I handed to Jack on our way back to the shuttle. My whole body went numb when we climbed in and I became certain that my theory was accurate. Even Jack's anxious flicking of the trigger cap didn't disturb me. I was gonna kill him. I was gonna blow that motherfucker the fuck up. My whole body tensed with anticipation. And then she pressed it.

Shepard gave her a wink and beat three times on the door to the cockpit, spurring the Cerberus crewman to get us the fuck out of here. But we weren't fast enough. The shockwave struck the back of the shuttle, nearly dumping the three of us on the floor. But it also swept away all of the emotion that wrenched in my chest. There was only focus and determination now. And I think it had the same effect on Jack. All of her agitation was gone now and she was back to her confident aggressiveness.

We didn't talk after that.

.0

"EDI, I need the Illusive Man," I called, after checking that the comm room was empty.

The AI responded immediately. "He did not inform me that you had a conference scheduled. I will request a transmission. One moment." Face set angrily, I watched the table. He didn't waste any time. "The Illusive Man is available to speak with you."

"I don't want anyone in here while we're talking."

"Understood."

I strode across the lowering countertop and waited impatiently for the scan to finish and the hologram to appear. It seemed unusually dark in his little lair this time, red shadows deepening to a bloody crimson. He looked surprised to see me.

"This is unexpected," he greeted unhappily. "Hello, Raiza."

"Don't call me that," I snapped back. That was the last name I wanted to hear right now. He put out his cigarette, glowing blue eyes narrowed irritably. "I should have known that there was a reason you took such a deep interest in my time with the Russians. I want names."

And then the anger was gone, replaced by the infuriating little smirk in his voice as he realized that he was still in a position of control. "Really, because you don't even seem to want _your_ name right now."

"You can say 'Raiza' all you want but I'm not—"

"Oh, but you are." I was positively livid now, every muscle in my body tensed to attack. This wasn't a joke. What they did to me. It was unforgivable. "However outdated and risky their methods, they obviously succeeded. And now you are something different than before. Something more."

"If you aren't going to tell me who, then at least tell me why! Why were they trying to turn me into a Prothean?"

The visions, the unusual sensitivity to people's moods and intentions. It was exactly like Javik reading Grunt's old cargo hold. And the beta waves in my brain scans—that was what happened to Shepard when the Prothean's warning was forcibly shoved in his head. Like Jack's memories had been shoved in mine. And, presumably, Chakwas' before. When the Normandy was in danger, she thought about it being destroyed the first time. This was the reason that the Illusive Man was so surprised and unexpectedly pleased I'd survived my rebirth on Omega. He wasn't worried about the Fever killing me or even the criminals. He'd been certain that the side effects of the Russian's experiments were going to do that.

But he merely shook his head and lit up another cancer stick. "They weren't trying to _turn you into_ a Prothean, merely combine your DNA with what they'd recovered from Mars."

"Why?"

He gave a short chuckle. "All in good time, Raiza." I damn near picked up the table and chucked it at him. "As for 'why you', well, I figured that would be obvious enough. Did you forget that you were a prisoner of war when they took possession of your cryo pod? Your safety was no concern of theirs. And besides, when they thawed you and your body began to recover, they realized that you were the only human who had survived a near catastrophic outbreak of an alien disease. To them you were the perfect specimen. They didn't know what you and I know: that the alien you first encountered was of a different species than the one that built the structure on Mars. They believed that you were just naturally able to adapt in a way that the others weren't and so chose you to be the subject for their genetic experiment."

A snarl erupted from my throat. _She survived the Turian White Fever, so let's try altering her genetic code to become half Prothean? _"Who is 'they'?"

"If I tell you, you'll kill him."

"Does he not deserve it?" I demanded as he settled deeper into his chair with a sigh.

"Regardless of the personal sacrifices you were asked to make, those scientists spurred many groundbreaking discoveries. I'm told you've been having dreams similar to Shepard's visions from the Eden Prime beacon. This could be a great clue to their methods of communication. And we can find out which parts of the DNA can be altered in this way to achieve results without killing the subject. Not to mention their study of the White Fever. I'd like Mordin to do a full genetic workup after the Collectors had been destroyed."

"Screw you," I snapped rather loudly. "You sold me, remember? You don't get to make any more choices for me, I don't belong to you."

"So I should consult the Krogan who paid for you then?" was his sarcastic response.

But my vision went red and his face fell slightly when I answered him. "Dead men don't make deals with the likes of you." I left then, before I exploded from rage and took a few seconds to breathe deep and try to calm myself.

When the door slid open again and I moved to step into the hallway, I found an unexpected face. "Wow, you look pissed. Is this about Jack nearly blowing you guys up?"

"Joker!"

"Yeah, yeah. Don't look so surprised," he shrugged. "EDI said we couldn't take off because someone was using the entangled pairs and Shepard wants to get to the Shadow Broker's base before dinner. What were you up to in there?"

I just about snapped that it was none of his business, but forced myself to calm down and remember that he was one of the people I could trust. He'd kept my secret before. He wasn't going to take advantage of me the way that the Cerberus leader had. "You remember I told you that Cerberus bought me from the Russians? Well, it was because they were doing genetic experiments on me. They…damn, I gotta make sure I'm stable! I'll explain more later, just please, nobody else needs to know—especially not Kelly."

"Okay," he assured me, concern etched on his face. "But go see Mordin, alright."

"Yeah," I sighed, not exactly sure that I wanted to see the Salarian. He'd been the Illusive Man's suggestion after all. But if anyone was up to the task, it was him. "I will. Thanks, Joker."

"Hey." He reached out and tried to grab my arm, but his grip was loose so as not to break any bones and his hand slid down to the end of my sleeve, once again contacting the skin.

_It hit me like a truck this time. My whole body was tender and fragile. Especially my legs. They gave, my knees meeting the floor with a painful crack. They ached from deep within. I just wanted to get back to my seat in the cockpit. It was so comfortable there and nothing had to hurt. And the braces were chaffing now. That would be another embarrassing trip to the medical bay. But Alpha looked upset. She needed me here._

"Oh shit! Mordin! EDI, call Dr—"

"No," I choked out, interrupting him. "I'm okay. Don't call anyone, EDI."

"Bullshit," he growled, reaching out to help me again.

I took his hand before it made it to me, ensuring that he only contacted the glove. Mordin rushed in after that, large eyes taking in every detail. "Eyes unfocused, visibly upset. Possibly having another dream. Need to scan brain waves to confirm."

"No scan necessary, Mordin," I informed him as he helped me to my feet. Slowly, I was coming back. Damn it. How the pilot could be so worried about someone else when he felt like that was beyond me. I turned to face him, still holding one of his hands. "I'm okay, Joker. I know what's going on now. Just do me a favor and…the next time we hang out, wear gloves."

"Gloves?" he demanded, clearly still anxious about my fall.

"I know it doesn't make sense, just trust me. I'll explain later." Mordin guided me into his lab then and cleared an exam table, ordering me to lay down. I did so, still feeling the aching in my legs. My head was spinning now, pictures merging. The burning Normandy, little Jack crying, myself on the floor through Joker's eyes. After a few deep breaths, these faded.

"The same as before? Seem to be recovering more quickly. Fully alert now. Should do brain scan."

"I don't need a brain scan, Mordin." Activating my omni-tool, I disconnected EDI's lab terminal and did my own scan for bugs and cameras. The room was clear. Curious more than concerned now, he folded his arms and leaned against another bench. I decided not to keep him waiting. "When you have a spare minute, I need you to do a genetic analysis. There's been some…tampering."

"Tampering?" he repeated suspiciously.

I just nodded, suddenly very tired. "Hopefully you'll know more soon enough. I just need more than the Illusive Man's word on what happened while I was asleep. But if he's right…."

The doctor hummed and stepped forward, using his omni-tool for a series of much more thorough scans than he'd done before. "Will do full workup. Do not advise accompanying Shepard and Liara on next mission."

As another information broker, Shepard had requested that I join him for the assault on the Shadow Broker's base as well. I had almost forgotten. But now that I'd been reminded…. "I _have_ to go," I mumbled, forcing myself to sit up in an effort to prove to Mordin that I was feeling better than I was. It wasn't smart, I knew. This was an exceedingly difficult mission. But if anyone was likely to have information on the damn Russian who twisted my DNA, it was the Shadow Broker. I just had to survive that long.

Mordin wasn't buying my act, but he seemed to understand. "Sleep, then. Will wake you when the time comes. Results by the time you get back. "

.0

I shifted nervously by the shuttle, waiting for Shepard and Liara to finish their private conversation in the far corner of the cargo hold. We were almost to the base now.

"Are you sure you're alright to go?" Garrus asked, appearing once more from the other side of the flying bus. He'd been checking it for loose armor panels since we learned about the weather conditions of the planet the Broker was orbiting. The last thing we needed was one of these coming loose in the strong winds or not being properly insulated.

"I'll be fine," I assured him. We'd been talking and I'd told him what had been happening. He didn't seem to like it one bit. First, he'd nearly had a heart attack when I told about the Fever. And then the whole mind reading thing. For a while there, I thought that he was going to rat me out to Shepard to stop me from going. But in the end, he'd trusted me. Now I was just checking my armor for the same deficiencies he'd been examining the shuttle for.

I'd put on my full armor this time, taking full advantage of the pale grey sleeves that fell all the way to my gloves and stretched up my neck. It was far more bulky and obvious than my regular set but there was no hiding our intentions once we got boots on ground. Not for this mission. It also minimized exposed skin until Mordin finished his analysis.

What was I going to do now? This was getting more and more twisted and wrong. What else had happened to me that I didn't know about? Was I suddenly going to get another pair of eyes or grow wings? Did somebody steal one of my kidneys or…God, what if someone put a chip in my brain? A hasty but thorough scan by three different applications cleared that possibility and I sighed in relief. Stupid. If someone had chipped me, they'd have used it by now.

"You look jumpy."

I snapped my head up to see Shepard and Liara there, armored up and ready to go. I gave him an embarrassed smile, trying to hide my uncertainty. "The Shadow Broker's a heavy hitter. I'm just double-checking everything."

"Shuttle's good to go, Shepard," Garrus told him with a nod. "Stay safe out there and kick some ass."

"Right." They clasped hands and we climbed aboard.

"Comms check. How do you read, Commander?" Joker asked, voice buzzing in my left ear. Liara and I gave him a thumbs up, indicating that we could hear just fine.

"Loud and clear. Are we ready to go?"

"Coming up on the base now, Shepard. Atmosphere warning. Cargo bay clear? Cargo bay clear. Opening cargo bay door. Shuttle approved for departure." We put on our breathers and closed the door, waiting for our pilot to identify our selected drop point.

"Everybody ready?" the asari asked, nervousness leaking into her own voice.

"We're ready. It'll be fine, Liara." Taking her hand in his, Shepard gave it a reassuring squeeze. It was kind of nice to know that I wasn't the only one worried about all of this. But we had Shepard with us. It wasn't possible to fail.

I hoped.


End file.
